Between the Lines
by ImSoAwesome
Summary: Blake couldn't live like this anymore. She'd thought the Fang was a symbol of hope, of a future for faunus kind... not a militia that would wage an all-out war against Vale. It was time to leave. But where could she go? She had no home, no family. She had nothing... no, that wasn't true. She could only hope she'd find refuge from this with her best friend. Co-op w/ ThePhantomScribe
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:** Cat in the Cradle

* * *

"Nearly there, be sure not to fall behind."

It annoyed her how sordid the man walking just seven steps ahead of her could be.

It annoyed her even more than after all this time she still wasn't all that used to it – wasn't continuous exposure to something supposed to desensitize you from it? Perhaps it wasn't that easy; some people couldn't handle certain things well, no matter how often they were exposed to it. The very essence of fear; to want to be away from something that unsettled you in such a way that your mind and body couldn't fully comprehend it.

Maybe this was fear. It's an emotion she would've preferred.

Instead, she was caught in this twisted wet towel of complicated emotions. Respect, realization, sadness and regret all being wrangled together so tightly it became difficult to deduce which one she was feeling the most of.

And if that wasn't bad enough already, she wasn't even certain on which feeling was worse.

"You're quiet today Blake." His deep voice had always provided some form of comfort. The purpose in his stride and strength in his baritone instilled a kind of confidence in her – assured that so long as she followed his lead, no harm would ever come to her.

How wrong she had been.

"I'm quiet all the time Adam," was Blake's response, idly brushing the straying strands of black away from her field of vision. Naturally long hair was sometimes more of an encumbrance than a blessing, "What makes you think today is any different?"

Adam's counter was sharp and sudden, not unlike that blade firmly strapped to his side. "What I think doesn't matter. Your silence works in our favor anyway. So long as your head is in the right place for this mission, your personal strife is not my immediate concern."

 _It was never your immediate concern._

Blake didn't know why she hadn't said it, it was definitely the perfect opportunity. Throughout her life, she'd had many chances to say those words. Time and time again the ideal chance to throw in his face all the supposed 'anger and strife' he accused her of harboring.

Well… he wasn't incorrect. And maybe that's why she never retaliated.

She felt her feline ears brush against the silky fabric of her bow – a natural response to the hundreds of sounds rebounding off each and every leaf in this scarlet forest. There was hardly any wind today, the air only ever moving just enough to rustle the leaves of the towering trees. Her amber eyes roamed the base of the canopy, it giving way to only the most miniscule beams of light cast on all things beneath them.

Even with the bow somewhat hampering her sense of hearing she could still methodically pick out all the sounds of nature at a higher degree than most. The faint chirps of early morning grasshoppers, all of which bounded among the dew-slicked grass. The crunchy wetness of said grass was like crumbling bread to her, snapping and falling apart as she lightly trampled over it. Very few animals out right now, with only the occasional chipper squirrel and chattering swallow… and even fewer creatures of Grimm; she hadn't seen nor sensed a single one since they arrived.

Had she not felt so foul in the pit of her stomach, she would have spared the mental power to label it a beautiful scene. But that was not what she was sent out here to do… not by a long shot. Give her a choice, she'd stay in this Grimm invested jungle for eternity…

It was much better than what she was about to force herself to do.

"Forgive me if I don't yearn for any of your kind of concern," Blake kept her voice level, though that did nothing to lessen the bite in her words, "It'd be much easier to confess my heart to a brick wall."

Unsurprisingly, the man chuckled. Predictable. Never thought that'd be a word she'd ever associate with a sealed vault like Adam. He always seemed to have no flaws. A perfect fighter, intelligent, resourceful, commanding… qualities that created a man who could not be fooled, forced, or manipulated.

But when it came to matters of the soul, he was better off not having one. The girl couldn't deny that it felt a bit wrong to think that way.

"I have my weaknesses, as do we all," Was it nap time? Because Adam's unbearably emotionless tone was making Blake more tired than she was already, "Thankfully, mine do not impede on the will of our brotherhood. You on the other hand could stand to adjust your mindset."

"And that means?" Blake fired out a bit faster than she'd hoped. Sometimes the anger just fell out regardless of how hard she tried to reign it in.

"Were you not paying attention?" Adam's body whipped around faster than she could take her next step, the girl looked up into his masked visage defiantly as he finished up his statement, "Keep your head on the mission, as it is all for the good of faunus worldwide. Remember that it justifies every single one of our actions."

 _Justifies? How very holier-than-thou._

"I don't know if I can ever believe that," Blake shook her head, speaking not so much to Adam as she was the toes of her boots.

"In your case, you don't have to," Adam shrugged a single shoulder, "Our leaders know the best course of action, and we will follow orders accordingly. So do us a favor and think of your people for once. Lest you make another idiotic mistake."

And with that, he turned back on his heel – Blake simply staring at him for a few seconds afore trailing behind him again, if only a slightly further distance than before. She swallowed a sigh, hating the pocket of air that exploded in her throat. But she didn't care. She just wanted this all to be over so she could shut herself away from her mentor once again.

She was sad to admit she'd been doing so rather frequently as of late.

She used to think there'd been some kind of connection between them, a mutual respect for each other's standing. Not simply because they were both faunus, but also because of the dream that he and she shared. The collective aspiration that had brought so many others to the cause – at the time, she'd thought it was magnificent.

The truth, however, quite frankly hurt.

Again, the faunus girl found comfort in nature. The rigid yet smooth tree bark, stretching up like the pristine godly columns that held up the heavenly paradise, clusters of leaves representing the gold and silver clouds so strong that even a Goliath could walk on them. Adorable, innocent animals of basic instinct living their lives as well as they could manage. Lucky pricks, they didn't have any manner of stresses in their lives.

What a cruel fate to be nailed smack dab in-between the genus of animals and humans. Awarded with the abilities of a specific animal as well as complete night vision.. with the only drawbacks being that a majority of every human on the continent thought her kind was undeserving of a thing known as equal rights. Even after the ever famous, Faunus Rights Revolution.

Oh yeah, not to mention being a part of a globally despised terrorist organization that had taken to bombing important locations and assassinating influential individuals in the past few years.

Still, Blake couldn't find herself angry at those facts. Once upon a time she had been, and that had taken her to a place she never thought she'd be freed of. But now as those words replayed over and over again, she was more accepting of them. Well, maybe not so much accepting – wouldn't make much sense for a fellow faunus to be completely apathetic toward their own kind's suffering.

She wished there was someone here she could share that with. But if Adam was her destined companion, then her two weeks were going in promptly.

 _'Are you sure that's how you want to live?'_

The words of another rang in her brain; a distant memory she recalled. Blake's already somber gaze practically drilling holes into the ground as the bright, soothing voice even seemed to echo throughout her very bones.

No, it _wasn't_ how she wanted to live. It never was.

But what could be done? She'd been in this since the beginning, it was what she knew, what she grew up being taught. This was a world all too familiar, and as crazy as it sounded, it carried an eternal torch in her heart that burned with the desire to defend it. To defend and protect the brotherhood she spent so many years working with…

 _'For. You're working for them Blake. Not with them.'_

A long time ago, she might not have believed him, she'd have called him nothing but a two-faced liar who sided with the most evil creatures in this world: humans. But she had clear sights now… and what she saw through that looking glass was far more perturbing that she wanted to believe.

She missed him. Terribly.

But it couldn't be helped. This was her lifestyle, this was who she was. All she could ever be. Making a change wouldn't matter. In the eyes of the wronged, she was still a damned sinner. Forever doomed to the abysmal pits of hellfire, where the endless burning of her flesh was her righteous and deserved punishment.

 _'It's not too late.'_

He could afford to believe that, though. It would be harder for her in the long run. And yet her heart squeezed itself, pushing her to stop momentarily to take in her latest string of thoughts.

 _Am I to continue living this life that I loathe? All to accomplish a dream that had once been noble, but now lies in a place of hatred?_

She looked at her hand, slowly opening it and coiling again while the deep look of concentration drowned out everything else around her.

 _Or can I change that? Can I finally find a way to escape this hell and make a place where happiness can be real?_

Just as she had firmly locked one fist, the sound of Adam's sword-like voice brought her attention back on him. The man stood readily, detaching his sheath from his side and gripping it tightly in one hand.

"Here it comes."

Straight to the point as always, and Blake at the very least glad she'd stayed on page long enough to know to instantly prepare for action. Unlatching her charcoal-black steel weapons off her back, she held the thick rectangular blade in a single hand before lowering herself into a semi-running stance.

Her ears picked up on a sound… a familiar one.

The sound of… heavily rumbling metal. A vehicle, a large one at that - skating sloppily along oxidized tracks worn down by time and providing a very audible screech that could have been heard even by a human from this distance.

 _This mission, this is when I'll decide._

"Let's move!" Adam ordered immediately, Blake matching pace with him as they zoomed through the red forestry faster than the untrained eye could catch. Yet at the same time, her steps were light and calm, giving away no form of noise other than the crush of the grass beneath her feet.

 _Whether I love my people more… or myself._

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

Adam's sword slid firmly back into its scabbard.

Blake let out a minute sigh, calming the flux of aura in her body from the exertion of the battle. Not a difficult little skirmish per se – they were only dealing with the security robots after all. It was almost insulting, really; the White Fang had been targeting these shipments for years now. One would think that the executives bearing that well-known snowflake emblem would take better precautions against further attacks.

Or perhaps, they had so much more merchandise in production that these thieveries were nothing but minor nuances.

That was either good or bad depending on one's perspective.

The rumble of the train did nothing to unsettle her steady pace as she followed after Adam. And this train didn't exactly rock like an infant's cradle either; it was rickety, old, and frankly, dispensable. It was hard to believe it was still being used despite being so out of date; it'd be much easier, and probably safer to transport shipments through airships or sea freighters. Maybe it was more expensive, but the reward surely outran the risk, didn't it?

Funny… the richest, most powerful company in the world was still finding ways to be cheap. Or as they most likely labelled it, being economical.

The train roof door was freed from its shackle - courtesy of Adam's sword - and swung wide open. Adam was the first to leap through it, Blake following shortly after hearing his dress shoes clank on the solid metal floor.

Here it was.

Crates upon crates. Pure, hardened steel frames melded so tightly together that not even air could escape from them. Each one looked exactly the same – no difference in the slightest, but the sheer presence of all of this product in a single place was… intimidating, to say the least. They sat about them on all sides, stacked upon and around each other in perfect order. Done so specifically to keep what was being held inside stable; no one would want to transport potentially volatile dust. The faunus girl began to see why the trains were still being used…

Flat, even pathways cleared through the forest, a perfect road made for the tracks to guide along the train without any form of obstruction. Giving way to the ideal form of transport that guaranteed no kind of natural obstacle or malfunction. At least in comparison to a Bullhead – a single malfunction on an airship carting dust could lead to nothing but pure destruction.

But then, so could this, right?

"Perfect," spoke her partner, Blake only now noticing that he had opened one of the crates. She didn't miss the faint smirk creeping along his jaw upon seeing the no doubt satisfying elements inside. That smirk sharply faded… replaced by yet another poignant order, "Move up to the next car. Once I set the charges, this whole train will be going under."

Blake felt her heart lurch in her chest, threatening to jerk out of her breast as though preemptively trying to escape and run away before it could get stabbed through by regret. It beat so heavily that she wasn't sure what to say or do. For what seemed like the millionth time this day, her gaze fell to the floor as she rummaged through the files in her office of a brain, praying that she could find some sort of answer there.

She didn't.

"And… and what about the crew members? The people who are still on this train?" She implored the man, looking up at him with a mixture of anger… and desperation. Please Adam, have a heart! There was no reason to go through with this mission. Not like this. If all they needed to do was destroy the cargo, then at the very least they could allow the people on it to be spared. She hated the fact that she was willing to beg; she had a great deal of pride in herself, thanks to certain someone...

But what was of greater importance to her were the lives of the passengers. What fault was theirs in this? They weren't doing anything other than their jobs. They didn't deserve this kind of ending, even if they were human, so who was Adam to sentence them to an early demise?

A puff of air escaped her nostrils, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"What about them?" Adam waved his hand passively, another light smirk spreading above his chiseled chin.

…

She wished it was a lie. A dream, even. But the bow-bearing beauty could no longer deny the truth to herself. For so long she tried to pretend it wasn't real – to hold on hope that her mentor had not stooped to this kind of low. She wanted to believe that her cause was still worth it, that all the years she spent growing up amongst her brothers and sisters actually meant something in this awfully morbid world.

Those simple three words, and the blatant apathy behind them, was more than enough of a hint now.

This was it… this was as far as she could go.

How she could tell her superior faunus, she did not know. She was anxious enough already, she didn't want to have to anticipate what he might say or do to her the moment she walked away.

Maybe her lopped off head would be her saving grace.

She had something to live for though, didn't she? Even if it may be end of this journey, who was to say that it was completely over for her? There was so much more in life that she wanted to accomplish, to experience! She dared not accept death when she wasn't even close to reaching the prime of her life.

Even if Adam and the White Fang could no longer be a part of her life… she had to accept that. No longer would she be surrounded by years of familiarity, now to thrust herself into a chaotic world where the twitching of her bow could have her ostracized in public. A world where she'd be all alone.

No… not completely.

There was still one person; one person in her life that she could go to. A person that would not force her into committing terrible acts, and would accept her heritage.

Her friend.

Her mind was made up, and the end was nigh. Taking a brave inhalation of precious oxygen, Blake readied to release the ties that had once bound her to the life of a terrorist.

"Adam—"

Her body rocked as the crash and echo of a heavy slam on the floor forced her words back into her throat. In front of her, Adam whipped his head around to face the progenitor of the rumble, Blake locking onto it a millisecond later.

A Spider Droid.

Shit.

Adam seemed ready at least; drawing his sword post-haste as the thick, rectangular cannons ejected from the pauldrons of the war machine. Its red and black frame seemed to hum a low tune, particles of a white-blue hue pulsating in the barrels. The charge became higher and higher in frequency…

And Blake was on the move before it could fire.

As Adam skid to the right, Black leapt over him and began a swift bee-line toward their new adversary. The blasts of concentrated energy crashed against the walls and floor; the girl seething as the singing heat from the passing beams was enough to scorch her skin – probably a good idea to not get hit by one of those.

With a mighty leap that closed the distance between her and the target, the faunus raised the cleaver half of her weapon above her head, aiming straight for the head of the mechanical monster. What she didn't expect was for the machine to buck at her, not only negating her blow, but heavily slamming against her body. The world blurred around her as she plummeted to the floor, awarded with a painful headache as her skull met steel.

"Damn it… " Her teeth clenched together as she began to push herself onto her feet, dreading the clank of the arachnid's appendages as it closed in on her.

She wouldn't call it saving exactly, but nevertheless, Adam did keep the machine back with well-timed slashes to its hard exterior. This did seem to stun it, but Blake couldn't spot any significant damage. Mere scratches at best.

The swordsman landed protectively beside her… sent flying by the hard flick of one of the Spider Droid's legs a second later.

Blake had just about gotten back onto her feet, slinging up her prized tool as she took notice of the leg now bearing down onto her. In a swift motion, she found herself snatched into the arms of her partner, letting her back onto her feet once they were a fair distance away. For a second she thought to express her gratitude; corrupt or no, he did save her life still.

"You alright?"

It was odd for Blake, hearing those kind of words. And while his expression remained consistently impassive, she couldn't call that genuine concern in his voice a lie. His masked eyes still roaming the advancing arachnid as he shook his head, "I remember teaching you to keep your wits about you during a battle, Blake."

Yeah… she remembered that, too. Back when no barriers had been formed… when the dream of peace between humans and faunus was still real. When the man who held her in his arms was a hero, not a killer. If anything, all this meant was that her decision was correct. The only problem now was how to go about it.

Her ears followed the sound of metal shifting along metal, turning her sights back to the Spider Droid that now bore a single, huge cannon jetting from the front.

Swirling energy formed in its shaft; within seconds, a wide column of reverberating white energy rocketed toward them at breakneck speeds.

At the very least, Blake was able to coat herself in her aura.

The crash of her back through the solid wall was painful enough, but she was at least thankful that she hadn't suffered any bad burns from the impact of the blast. Adam had drawn his sword just in front of them, mitigating the damage to them by absorbing a portion of the impact.

One potent reason why Adam's sword, the Wilt, was so dangerous.

Her body skidded on the roof of the moving train, Blake grinding herself to a halt before she could fall off the edge. Hearing the approach of the war machine, she hastily got to her feet in preparation for what she hoped was the end of this fight.

"Buy me some time!" Adam called out to her, sheathing his sword into its scabbard as the sigils on his clothing and mask began to glow a brilliant red.

"Are you sure?" She said back, but if nothing else, the answer was obvious.

" _Do it!_ "

Now pushing herself even faster, Blake's cold sprint avoided the continuous blasts from the machine's normalized cannons. The blasts were of no effect, her speed far too great to be hit by such mediocre attacks.

Once an opening had been reached, she tightened her legs and leapt toward the machine faster than it could register, almost as if she'd teleported. Her weapon instantaneously transforming into that of a gun-like chain sickle, she hooked the blade into the Spider Droid's neck, letting the speed of her jump cart her higher into the air.

With a hard tug, followed by the recoiling shot from her hooked gun blade, the weapon came free, spinning back toward her. As she let it pass by, she violently rotated her body, allowing the descent of her fall to speed her up. Combined with the whirling of her chain scythe, repeated slashes connected with the hide of the machine, tearing larger marks into its bulk than she expected.

A proud grin adorned her lips as she stuck a premier landing - her assault had yet to come to an end.

She yanked the sickle back toward her, catching it in her right hand and re-shifting it to its black katana style while dashing at her foe's legs. She laid out a speedy combination, easily avoiding the close range shots that it managed to pull off. Each blow counted, unsettling the Droid more and more due to its inability to eliminate her.

Then with another powerful leap, she stabbed her sword straight up the Droid's head, wrenching it hard in its crackling interior while at the same time firing a chain of bullets into its neck. Upon seeing that it was about ready to counterattack, she kicked off of its front and soared through the air, nailing several back-handsprings before stopping just beside her partner.

The man now fully prepared to unleash hell.

Was this… her chance?

Looking behind her, she took note of the latch that combined the two cars on this side. She supposed this meant this was the near front of the locomotive, since this was where the cargo storage came to an abrupt end.

Looking back, she took in Adam's form… his strong back, scarlet hair coursing through the push of the wind alongside his jet black suit. She fondly recalled all the times he'd had her back, helped her, taught her – they were simpler times back then.

But things weren't so black and white anymore. She got older, as did he. They'd both changed drastically.

But the changes had been too much, too much for Blake.

Even those who were once close could drift apart. A sad, but fitting truth in this case.

"Move!"

She complied fully, running and leaping onto the opposing train car and watching as the Spider Droid's energy beam was absorbed into Adam's sword. Then, as the demonic machine leapt at him, he unleashed his signature slash, motioning the arc of the half-moon in one full motion.

The Spider Droid was no more, forever discarded to the wind as nothing but a bushel of bloody red roses.

Adam approached her then, but already too late as he broke into a run that was immediately cut short as he reached the edge of the train car.

Silence. Naught but he rumbling of the train between the melancholic staredown between what Blake believed to be, once good friends. Adam's expression was empty, as always. Maybe for a second, there was a slight of his mouth, perhaps surprise? Hurt? But Blake found herself rather shocked to see the only gesture that contradicted his otherwise heartless attitude.

A single hand, reaching toward her…

Longingly.

But she'd made up her mind. There was no going back just for a single gesture which no longer held more than a moment's worth of emotion. She had to do this, for herself, so that she could make a peaceful life the right way. She never wanted to walk this path of crime and hatred; she would not live like that.

And that was why it was time to say…

"Goodbye."

Before she even knew what she was doing, she slashed the connection between the two cars. Refusing to allow her tears to fall as the visage of her mentor slowly grew further and further away. The speed of her ride hadn't slowed in the slightest, her hair swinging wildly in front of her as her still body stood against the pushing air. Her attention remained forward, almost unblinking as once again she tuned out the world around her.

Five minutes… ten minutes… twenty...

Long after Adam's side of the train had gone, Blake had yet to move. Her mind was still, yet at the same time fluctuating wildly. The prospect of what she'd done; the agonizing feeling of becoming traitorous scum in the eyes of her brothers and sisters. All of those that she'd grown up knowing, fought alongside, protected and was protected by… all down the drain.

But of course the real deciding blow…

Was the loss of someone she'd once trusted with all her heart.

And it was only after she realized this… that Blake Belladonna fell to her knees.

Hoping that her tears would cease before nightfall.

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

A single yawn.

Jaune Arc's free hand went in front of his widened mouth as if hoping to catch the tired air escaping from his throat. His other hand carried a plain, faded white mug—one he arduously defended against relentlessly brutal sisters as a choice of classical taste"Said mug filled with a piping chestnut colored mixture of hot chocolate, expertly graced with the spread of whipped cream and a tiny, but entirely necessary cherry.

Ah yes, nothing better than half a pint of unnatural sugars to help a man get back to sleep.

Long nights like this really sucked. Nowadays, finding any sort of suitable sleep was next to impossible for him – not because he didn't have the time, but because he wasn't making the time. Honestly he was beginning to wonder if all this intense, last minute training was really worth the strain.

The boy sighed lowly, "No one said trying to become a Huntsman would be easy… "

In reality, he wished he'd gotten started much earlier in his life, back when he still had more time to prepare. But he was seventeen now, which was the minimum age that students were admitted. Yes, he could wait another year or two and put himself through a greater degree of training. But he wished to start this year, when he was still ripe. He couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be to start his training halfway into his thirties.

A shudder. There would be no girlfriends on that road.

But it was his dream, so no matter what, he'd pursue it. Yeah he might not be all that good right now, but he could guarantee that in time he would become someone great! Give him the opportunity and means, and he'd train until the cows came home!

Figuratively anyway. No live action cows, thank you very much!

He had a hard day of training today, just as he did yesterday, and the day before that, so on and so forth. The same was to be expected tomorrow, nothing but complete and total dedication to his training. It would all be worth it in the end, it really would. He'd become a prestigious Huntsman, make his father and forefathers weep with pride, and finally free himself of this loser label that he'd so easily strapped to himself.

A passionate fist was balled up in front of him, shaking wildly as he envisioned his days of grandeur. Emotional tears leaking from his sealed eyes at the prospect of epic battles, beautiful warrior women, and the stories he would pass onto his children when he was a legendary, yet retired old man.

It would all be realized, just not tonight.

So why not focus on actually trying to get some sleep? It was cold in this huge house and he was all alone. His father and sisters were all in Mistral with some relatives for a while, and his mother was, as always, working.

He might have thrown a house party; but that required friends. And boy weren't those low in stock these days?

Sigh...

Oh well. Stresses for another day, right now it was 2:02 in the morning, and he was slowly drifting into a siesta as he and his comfy blue onesie coursed up the stairs and toward his room. The matching bunny slippers slid against the wood with lively scraping noises, contrasting the sluggish motions of an increasingly sleepy Jaune.

And here was the door.

Opening it right away, he passed through the threshold and allowed himself to breath in the fresh, cool air…

That smelled an awful lot like the outdoors surrounding the Arc Manor.

Eyes motioning toward his only window, Jaune quickly dashed over to it, surprised at the fact that the window was wide open. The gentle air made his thin curtains dance with each breeze, and while he did admit that the natural chill felt nice, there was still a nagging question at the fore of his mind

He hadn't left the window open – he may be called a doofus at times, but even _he_ knew how dangerous that could be. Not like he lived in a bad neighborhood, but it was better to be safe than suffocated to death through means of a pillow and a person with a vendetta.

So how in the world did his window end up like this?

Did someone… sneak in?

Jaune tensed immediately, feeling the goosebumps travel up his arms and spine as he slowly turned around and placed his hot chocolate on the nearby desk.

 _Stay calm, precious ambrosia, Jaune'll keep you safe!_

The blonde's steps were slow, but sure. Looking antsy as he gazed about his room for any potential home invaders, he couldn't help but wonder what would he do if he found him? Was it even a him? Was it even just one!?

 _Oh god, what a time to leave my sword by the fireplace!_

Quickly, he grabbed the door of his only closet, swinging it wide open and flicking on the light inside.

Nothing. Just his mess of a pile of clothing. He really needed to get that organized. Not like he ever would, considering how lazy he was, but it was food for thought… that counted for something, right?

Laziness: 1, Responsibilities: -15.

"Okay… " He whispered warily, reaching into his closet for the wooden bat leaning against the wall. He might suck at sports, but everyone could at leaat grasp the idea of how to hit a home run. On someone's head.

He whipped around swiftly, holding the bat up in his practiced sword stance. His eyes shifted all over his room as the light from the closet illuminated all. There was nowhere else in this small room for any intruders to hide, except for under his bed. But if they were there, he'd certainly see them with the auspicious aid of that glorious light bulb.

However...

The intruder wasn't hiding under the bed. That much was obvious now. Hell, the person had the sheer audacity to take a nice spot _on_ his beautiful bed, snatching up all his precious space. Something he might've been angry about – had it not been for the fact that at the very least one of his panicked suspicions had been correct.

It wasn't a man that snuck into his house.

Jaune placed the bat back in the closet, shutting off the light and closing the closet doors quietly before approaching the person who slept soundly and without a care. Her dark clothing was only somewhat visible underneath the conflicting snowy color of the comforter, bare feet peeking out from just under them. Kneeling down in front of her, he smiled wider than he had in a long time. His cerulean orbs took in her features, reminders of how different she looked… and how familiar she remained. The knight stifled a chuckle as her nose wrinkled from the strands of dark hair that tickled it.

His beam widened even more as he noticed her flicking cat ears, the ever-present bow he knew she'd always wear even to bed currently nowhere to be found.

"Heya… Blake."

* * *

 **Geez, the nostalgia.**

 **If you asked me why I took this down, I don't think I could tell you. A lack of confidence maybe, or perhaps burnout - whatever the case, I look back on it now and wonder what convinced to believe deleting it was the right move?**

 **Ah whatever! Details!**

 **I'm just going to welcome BTL back to the fandom!**

 **After a thousand or so years my friend, ThePhantomScribe and I got back to working on this and decided to re-upload it.**

 **For new readers, this fic will center in an AU in which the White Fang has started up another war five years ago before Blake leaves, which puts the country of Vale in wartime at this point. Obviously things are going to work very differently because of this, such as teams and certain canon plotlines. This fic will follow its own storyline.**

 **For old readers, this story will be updated and some things may be fixed and switched around to work with everything up to Volume 5, and perhaps from there we'll even continue it.**

 **As a side note, I have never written anything on my profile page, but I have now. Check that out for a list of future stories and to stay up to date on what I'm working on.**

 **If you enjoyed this, drop that follow, reader! Keep an eye on this fic. I think we can assure you that you won't regret it.**

* * *

 **B/N:** Hey there, Phantom here!...it's been a long time. But some works just aren't meant to be buried. As ISA has likely updated, this fic is being revived and revised, with edits helping the world make more sense with better understanding of RWBYverse mechanics and making characters feel even more believable now that we know more about them.

I'm just happy to be back along for the ride, and for those of you reading this for the first time, you'll have fun regardless. We're mostly positive of it! Support is always appreciated, and we'll be having fun getting the rest of the fic back up and running in the meantime. Beta out!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:** Reunion

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 **Beta:** ThePhantomScribe

* * *

 _Damn it, should've closed the window…_

Light was like a warrior. A majestic, gallant warrior in radiant armor descending upon the world atop his trusty winged steed. With but a single wave, the shimmering astral beams of the sun cast their presence on the millions of cities subject to its glory, illuminating them with comfortable warmth and giving sight to an ecosystem otherwise dark.

Light was a good thing. It represented a fresh start, a new day – as well as the hundreds of possibilities the future had in store.

Blake was no cynic, not completely. In fact, had it not been long ago that she'd been a rather strong, positive idealist? As easily as she could see the gloomier end of life, she never turned a blind eye to the merit in it, the beautiful contributions the sun made to the world she lived on was a good example – breathing life into the plants that supplied her air. She dared not be appreciative of this and other gifts the light gave to her and her fellow living beings – why to do so was a rather blatant insult to nature.

But damn it, why did it have to gleam all over her face?

The faunus girl lazily flipped onto her right side – wondering how in the hell she ended on her left in the first place… probably from shifting around all night. With the aid of the copious, dove colored silk duvet, she shielded herself from the invasive sunlight that ever so pompously aggravated her eyes. Terrible, couldn't that stupid giant fireball see that she was trying to get some shut eye?

For a minute, she was again at peace, her skin tingling happily at close contact with the clean fabric with a scent that was reminiscent of flower scented detergent, pure natural silk and…

Jaune.

Momentarily her exhausted eyelids popped open, giving her a slowly clearer view of the nearly closed door several feet away. This was odd, of course – she may have been near dead on her feet, but she was quite certain the door had been closed when she fell asleep. She would know, she fell asleep facing it.

Which meant… someone had come in after she crashed.

Probably Jaune; it was the greatest probability since this was obviously his room. He even had a moderately sized wall tag on his door with his name emblazoned on it. Maybe it was for the sake of memory but… wasn't it supposed to be on the outside of the door? Then again, if she remembered his family correctly, then it was likely a pointless endeavor. Privacy wasn't a luxury in this manor; hell, it probably wasn't even a selectable option.

She couldn't repel the little grin that creeped on her face as small, but no less enjoyable memories played out like little movie clips in her head.

If the brightness stemming from the window wasn't indication enough; then Blake could easily surmise it was roughly getting close to the start of the afternoon. Wow… nearly a whole ten hours of sleep, when was the last time that had happened? She was so used to waking up in the early morning; dreading whatever assignment her superiors had ready for her. And if it wasn't that, then it was training or staying cooped up in the barracks alone… all day.

Whatever worries that usually crept into her brain whenever she lay her body down for the night had no presence last night, however. And for once… she could sleep without having to reassure herself that tomorrow would be a better one. That maybe she'd wake up and everything was just a childish nightmare built from stress; maybe then, Adam wouldn't be the way he was now. The White Fang would still be walking on the righteous path.

But putting stock in that now was beyond fruitless. All she needed to do was move on at this point.

As her sight cleared its groggy state, she found that there was no one next to her. Not like she'd expected there to be – she had gotten here a few hours after midnight after all. But maybe a small part of her hoped that she would wake up and he would be there. She might have questioned why he wasn't there already, but she was much too worn-out to give it any thought. Her time was best spent sleeping, revitalizing her spent energy.

But the question remained… where was he?

So much for lazing around. Blake slid her legs over the bedside, lightly flinching when her toes contacted the cold floor. It wasn't by any measure warm in this house, but with how huge it was, it was unlikely that the place could retain heat in every single one of its rooms. Regardless, she left the blanket on the bed and made for the door.

 _On second thought… you're coming with me._

Blake wrapped the comforter around herself; screw looking for Jaune without any protective warmth, this house was too huge for that kind of punishment. Upon exiting the room, she looked about the large and wide hallway, scanning the familiar homely atmosphere. Plain but welcoming, and above all, comfortable ground.

How many times had she been in this hallway? Looking at it now, it was exactly as she remembered, with not a single thing about it changing. From the furnishing of the brightly lit windows, halfway hidden by the blue drapes, to the crisp light brown walls. From the small tables that carried flowers or vases on top, to family portraits hung along the walls that showed far more people than the eight who lived here. In the far middle, an unlit crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling so still it was like it was frozen in time.

Clutching the quilt tighter around herself, she made her way toward the end of the hall, the wide rimmed steps coming into view within minutes. She thought to go down the other end of the hall, but that lay way to the longest route to the front of the house. She appreciated the shortcut route, and knowing Jaune, he probably did too.

As she made her way down them, she breathed in a rush of nostalgia as column after column of shelves made themselves visible to her enticed orbs.

The library.

Not the largest, not the most illustrious – in fact, it was much more like a reading den. The walls of shelves lined up on all four sides of the room, with one wall bearing the only other entryway, which if she remembered, led to the living room. The space in the middle was wide enough to allow a few tables, chairs and lamps, as well as a velvet couch on the far end, with a few reclining chairs sitting right in front of it. The only thing separating them being a small coffee table.

Without a doubt, her favorite part of this house.

Whenever Jaune was doing something else; she spent her time here, one of the very few libraries she'd been able to visit in her life. With the tens of thousands of books adorning the shelves, it was a smorgasbord of literary tales and tribulations. A plethora of mystery, angst, horror and any other genre she felt like plunging her mind into.

She could practically see herself in one of those recliners right now; perusing another atlas of Remnant maps as she enjoyed a steaming cup of tea on the desk. Opposite of her, Jaune would relax on the couch, his snores providing an oddly comfortable background tune for her adventures in the world of reading.

And to think… she'd be able to experience all of that again.

She didn't care how hasty she might have seemed, the prospect of seeing that blonde idiot again made her heart race faster than she could track. She creaked open the study doors, opening a way to a much smaller hallway that had the staircase coming down from the far opposing side. Smack in the middle was family room.

Built much like a typical family room; two wide velvet couches with a circular table in the middle, a large sized television framed into the opposite wall. A fireplace was built a few spaces away from it, wood stacked evenly beside it while the brick chimney coursed its path up the wall and into the ceiling.

But it was empty otherwise.

Perhaps he wasn't even here?

Her naked ears twitched at the sound of a metal jingle, the knob of the front door seemingly turning on its own before swinging completely open.

"Oh, you're awake!"

She made no effort to stare, and yet it seemed that was all her mind was allowing her to do. Jaune stepped into his house as normally as anyone would; groceries hanging off his arm as he exhaled an exasperated breath. The door closed behind him with a backward swing from his heel, dropping the bags beside the couch as he continued speaking.

"I hoped I'd get back before you woke up," Jaune admit with a shrug of one shoulder, both hands planted firmly on his hips as he regarded her, "I had this awesome way to surprise you too… oh well, guess it's not so bad. Hungry? I bought you something if you are."

… huh? What was that he said? Blake couldn't be certain… it was like her senses had been running on high until they overheated, to the point that they needed to shut down and reboot. Right now, only her eyes were functioning, and it was like she was trying to absorb every single minute detail.

He still looked the same… but at the same time, so very different.

For one, he seemed more muscular – she always remembered him seeming kind of frail, lacking any impressive musculature. And while he wasn't exactly ripped, his body seemed conditioned, healthy, and active through his pale white t-shirt and matching shorts.

But other than that, he was the same…

Wistful oceanic eyes that had a kind of warmth that almost seemed unnatural. The sclera were milky white clouds reflecting off the water, helping to accentuate the jovial gaze he sent her way. His golden tresses lay like a messy mop on his head, unkempt, but it was a look that was natural on him. Blake barely registered it as he approached her, one cocked eyebrow…

"Are you okay, Blake?" he asked, stopping right in front of her. One hand lifted toward her with hesitance, "You're… crying…"

Was she? Blake suddenly found that her cheeks were indeed stained wet, tears dripping off the side of her face as she continued to stare at the young man before her. When had she started crying? She never would have noticed if Jaune hadn't said anything.

She was just so…

So…

In the next instant, she forewent the quilt around her shoulders and locked her arms around the boy's neck, moving closer to him so that they pressed together. She ignored the surprised grunt he gave off, trying her hardest to stay stable on her quivering legs as her hold tightened, refusing to let go.

Eventually she just fell to her knees, dragging Jaune along with her. Her face buried into the crook of his neck while allowing all the joy in her heart to finally escape its prison. A pair of strong, warm arms wrapped securely around her back.

"I… I..."

How long had it been since she felt this warmth? The feeling of being embraced by someone? To others it may not have seemed like a big deal – to them, a hug may be no different than a handshake. But it was so much more… it implied closeness, amity. These were not things she got in the White Fang. After so long without any genial physical closeness, it was like a blessing. Gods, she wished she wasn't so choked up, barely able to speak her words coherently. If anything, they might have been a little muffled by his shirt, "Your window was left open…"

Jaune's deep laugh was like sweet music, "And whose fault is that?"

Blake didn't miss the slight hitch in his voice, and if it wasn't for the fact that he pulled her even closer, gripping her tightly in his arms, she might not have believed he missed her.

But she did believe him. Believed him in a way she had no one else. And as seconds turned to minutes, Blake's love for the moment hadn't wilted even a little. Those jubilant tears refused to cease... so she sat there, relishing in the scent of the blonde's cotton shirt.

And held on for as long as she wanted.

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

 _Man, this was new too…_

It was worth it though, undoubtedly – the splotches of wetness that found homes in his shirt were almost symbolic in a way, indicative of a reunion long overdue. He'd trade nothing for it – should the oceans flood the continent at this very moment, he'd hold onto this shirt even after the cascade of sky piercing water swept both him and the world away.

Jaune Arc found himself smiling in unison with the beautiful young woman sitting across from him on a velvet recliner. A plate of food sat readily on the marble table in front of her as she enjoyed herself with forkful after forkful of its contents. Composed, collected – very different than the mess of emotions and near back-breaking strength she exuberated not fifteen minutes ago. It was odd really, seeing her now…

Her hair wasn't that long before…

But he was pretty sure that the near two-year difference between their last meeting was the main reason for that. A little taller, a more defined and womanly figure, sharper gaze… it was hard to believe he hadn't seen her in so long. The difference was astounding, and yet engaging, like he was seeing the same and yet completely different person again… for the first time ever. He felt a grin creep onto him when her golden eyes met his again, a diffident smile spreading from the limits of her cheeks.

"You've gotten some muscle I see." She said first – had her voice always been this charming?

"And you look a lot prettier without the bow on." He quipped back with a cheeky beam, surely earning the playful ire of the woman's narrowed eyes.

The young man held his hands up placating, "Kidding, kidding! No need to kill me when you just got here!"

"Then don't provoke me into doing so," His companion replied with a shrug, "I do bite, you know."

"Oh, that's dirty." Jaune burst into guffaws, happy to hear that she could do much the same. Her voice was refreshing, to see such joy in her expression after such an emotional return. It was surreal, it really was – how long had it been since he'd heard her laugh? At times it almost seemed like he lost touch with who she was…

He never really thought on it that way, but maybe after so long apart it would become like that.

And while he didn't want to bring up anything Blake likely didn't want to talk about… there had to be a reason she was here. After this long? Then to just randomly show up in his bedroom? Something happened. And considering her past, it couldn't be anything particularly good.

Ah who was he kidding? It was likely just straight up bad.

"So…" He led the turn of the conversation as he propped his head up from his lying position on the opposing couch, "Well… not to sound like I don't want you here… it's just… like—

"Why am I here?" Leave it to Blake to cut straight to the point.

Oh nice, sword puns.

"Uh… yeah…" The blonde scratched the back of his head, allowing it to then rest back on the couch cushion. Not the best conversationalist, was he? Well at least there is some contrast in this relationship – Blake was forward and direct, while he was dodgy and timid.

How was it that this broad was more of a man than he? That was just unfair.

Jaune almost wished he hadn't posed the question – if Blake setting down her latest forklift of tuna was any indication. She didn't look at him… or perhaps, she didn't want to. Instead they stared deeply into the torn and seasoned fish like it was a black hole. Endless, mysterious... either way, Jaune realized he'd touched a nerve. Maybe not a bad one, not necessarily - just an uncomfortable one.

He could see a little bit of hesitation on her part; now he wasn't sure he wanted to hear this story.

"I'm sorry…" He apologized just before she could speak. He should have thought that question through first; how insensitive could he be!? "I didn't mean to… look, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

He hoped that would at least snap her out of her deep reverie; she'd technically only just gotten here today, perhaps it was a bit early to pry into a life that was frankly none of his business. No matter how close they might be.

Especially when he thought back to when she left…

Thataway lay no happy memories.

"It's alright, I want to tell you." She did? Well… great! "I just… kind of lost myself for a minute."

Jaune simply offered a nod in return, unsure of what to say. Perhaps it was best to just wait for her to start talking? He wasn't exactly uncomfortable, nor did their conversation feel in any way forced. But again, after such a long time away, he couldn't shake his curiosity on the reason why. He was elated that she was here, but there was a reason for everything, and he could tell that what brought her here was far more than a desire to drop by.

What could it be, though?

"I… ran away. I left the Fang."

…

Oh.

Well, slap his ass and call him Shirley, that was definitely a good reason to be at his doorstep. It was an eye opener, that's for sure – Jaune did nothing to mask his surprise, his jaw going slack as her words reverberated through his skull like the echoes rebounding off cavern walls. But the signal was clear, coherent; the only question now was…

"Well… why?"

Blake sighed deeply, slipping another bite of her food behind her lips, "…the war."

Ah, right… that.

The second human against faunus conflict. Publicly known as the Second Faunus Revolution.

Honestly, he was surprised she hadn't come back sooner then. She was gone for a close to two years, while the war has lasted more than five. Their friendship flourished within that two-year timespan she was here near his hometown, all during said war. At the time, the line between her dedication to the brotherhood and her friendship with him was unclear, and though he didn't dare question it, knowing an operative of a powerful terrorist organization that started violent sieges on the kingdom of Vale was no easy pill to swallow.

He never judged her; if anything, it was simply knowing more than he wanted to that was disturbing. But he felt he had no right to question her siding in the war – her circumstances were much different than a normal person's. In a different time, a different life, maybe he would have questioned her. But she was a faunus, and with this war going on, she was a public enemy by default.

Could she truly be faulted for siding with her kin?

"It was becoming too much for me," Blake's voice jerked him out of his inner world, "It was horrible enough… knowing what my brothers and sisters were getting involved in. For some reason, I thought I could live with that… just hiding myself away from the chaos and pretending everything was okay. It didn't help that there was no one there I could confide in."

Oh, if that didn't sting the heart…

A sad smile fell upon her, having brought another bite of fish before stopping completely, "Jaune, you were right back then. I was just fooling myself into thinking the White Fang's intentions were noble. 'Humanity is to blame'; I guess I wanted to believe them when my superiors told me that."

Then she looked at him, and one would have to be blind to not see the regret behind those deadly orbs.

"I put it all out of my head, I thought that my superiors knew what they were doing… that we were still looking for a way to achieve equality. And for a while… I did believe that war was the answer… before I knew it, we were being trained to raid villages, take prisoners and execute important people."

As Jaune well knew. The news had been filled with nothing but stories like that for the last five years. Updates on the condition of local towns that had been assaulted, reports of missing people… deaths of council members, governors and huntsmen.

Still, it was crazy to hear straight from her mouth. Had Blake really been out there doing such horrible things? Even around the time they first met? She'd only been fourteen at the time… had she really been shoved that deeply into a life of such bloodshed?

"Did you have to hurt people…?" He hated to ask this question, but he didn't think he could quell his heart if he didn't.

"No… I was always in the recon division – I was never in direct combat since the White Fang has been controlling the battlefield. Still, it didn't keep me from seeing it all. Personally, whether I was in recon or the frontline, I don't see the difference… I still supported it, allowing it to happen. Is that really any better than pulling the trigger?"

The young man wished to whatever existing gods there were that he could say no… it's what he would have believed. Maybe she wasn't the one pulling the trigger, but she did have a conscience, and the skill necessary; she could have saved a few lives. But could he tell her that? No. Absolutely not. It was the truth; and it was god awful… but it couldn't be changed.

Even so, it would never change his opinion about her. And no one in this world was a complete saint.

He sat up in his seat, the sound of his shift in movement drawing Blake's eyes to him, "Well… you're here now, Blake. You're away from all of that. Thinking about it now, allowing that guilt to fill you up… it won't make it right again. What happened, happened. I think the war was going to turn out this way no matter what; even if you had stepped in a few times, many people still would have died."

Was this helping? So far, he had only really said like one thing that had to potential to cheer her up. Maybe. Oy, he really needed a book on this kind of subject.

How to Not Be Insensitive: A Guide for the Average Dumbass.

With a sigh, he rubbed his head before speaking once more, "What I mean is… don't beat yourself up for this now. There wouldn't be a point. Just… cheer up a little… I guess?" Um, well, that should work, shouldn't it?

To his relieved joy, he saw the ghost of a smile tug at her lips as she looked at him, "You're still terrible at consoling people, Jaune."

"That's…" Jaune started to speak up louder, resigning himself to a low whisper and a drop of the head, "accurate."

"Accurate? That's a big word for you."

"Okay now that's just mean."

A resound of her laugh, genuine and true. Well, Jaune Arc may not have been the best at comforting others, but he'd be damned if he couldn't get her to laugh a little.

"You're right… thank you," She said with an appreciative nod, her tuna consumption now back in full swing, "I know it was sudden, my sudden stop in – I promise I won't be staying longer than a few days, after that I'll—

"The heck are you talking about?" Jaune stood up, placing his fists on his hips as he looked down on her sternly, "You aren't leaving."

He could chuckle at her raised eyebrow, "Jaune, I can't just stay here… it wouldn't be right. I can't leech off you and your family; hell, I haven't even met them."

That much was true. In the two plus years of friendship they had, Blake had never once met his parents. And that was no accident. Jaune and Blake had both agreed to keep it that way. But the circumstances were different now.

"I'll talk to my Dad," He answered quickly, "I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind you crashing here for a while. So there is no need to rush into leaving when you have somewhere to stay. At the very least until you've gotten a job and some place of your own."

"Jaune—

"I'm serious, Blake," He leaned toward her, "You can take your time. Just… relax for now. You can worry about your life some other time. So do me a favor and don't argue with me about this; I'd probably win, anyway."

This was the very least he could offer her. The last thing he wanted her to go through was a life on the streets; and while he was sure she could protect herself, it still wasn't the kind of life one should lead if they had alternatives. Luckily for him, she seemed to stop pressing the matter.

"Okay, fine. I'll… relax." Even if she said it with a small smile, Jaune could tell she still wasn't completely okay with it. That was oddly an admirable trait, Blake being a very independent person. She didn't want to use or take advantage of others, even in a state of vulnerability.

Still though, pride didn't stop hunger. At least this way she had a period of time to get herself together, which wasn't hard considering how easy it was to get a job these days. Probably the only thing the war was good for - opening employment opportunities. There weren't many people to take jobs when they were all busy dying on the battlefield.

"Well, I told you about me, I think I've earned a little of your story, haven't I?" Blake said, switching the subject.

Jaune chuckled as he leaned on the table, arm propped up and cheek pressed into his palm, "Well… for me there hasn't been too much other than the norm. Though I bet you've noticed that my family isn't here?"

A nod from the black-haired faunus.

"They're in Mistral with some relatives – Mom's orders – left two months ago, actually… she wanted everyone to be safe since the war is getting worse," He noted her look of surprise, as well as the obvious question, "I told my Dad that I'm staying home."

"Why?"

This time Jaune was silent… should he tell her? After everything they just talked about concerning the war, he wasn't sure he wanted to. But he should, shouldn't he? She'd just find out later, anyway…

But even after he opened his mouth to speak, he found the words seeping back into his throat.

"I… just didn't want to leave home. I don't even know why Mom was so adamant about us leaving anyway - Lore is on the western side of Vytal, nowhere near the warzone."

Not like she ever showed that kind of concern in general.

Blake seemingly believed him, but Jaune learned to think so sparingly. But she didn't make any attempt to press him about it; which was either good or bad depending on perspective.

"Was your mother okay with your decision?"

Truthfully, he had no idea. Jaune had only told his father out of necessity and had assumed he in turn told his mother. She could know, but she never called the house, so he had not a single clue.

Which again, was either good or bad.

"I don't know, I never bothered to ask." Jaune said, averting his eyes from the girl with a light pout. Damn, he wished his family hadn't been brought up… how ironic that he was the one to brood now that Blake had been freed of it? "I just didn't want to part with home… and yeah, maybe I appreciate a little time away from my family, too."

With a flick of his eyes, he caught Blake looking at him… sullenly.

"B-but I'm fine, Blake! Seriously!" He instantly shot out of his mouth, spreading the biggest smile he could, "I know it sounds a little bad, but really, I'm fine."

Blake no doubt didn't believe him. Jaune knew this. And he was fully expecting her to rebuke him and force the truth out of him… and he'd probably yield, too.

 _Please no._

Blake sighed one more time, "If you're sure…"

 _Bingo! Winner!_ "Of course, I promise! So can we just forget about all the bad stuff, so I can enjoy your being here?"

Blake nodded wholeheartedly, "Mm. I feel much more relieved now that I'm finally away from the Fang – away from Adam. Hurting people, losing any semblance of friends… I'm just glad that I can finally be somewhere that I don't have to worry about those things."

Jaune felt his hand stiffen, a lump in his throat as his solid cerulean eyes bore into everything but his friend, "Y-yeah…"

"Is there something wrong?"

Jaune snapped back at attention, a beam forming instantly, and he stood up again. Clapping his hands together, he practically shouted his next set of words, "Of course not! In any case, you'd better get ready, we're going shopping!"

"Shopping? What for?"

"Clothes," Was Jaune's simple and straight answer, "for you, anyway."

Again, that look of prideful independence. "Jaune… you don't have to –

"It's okay, I want to. I have more than enough money saved up from my last job in Vale. Besides, you can't seriously plan to wear your combat outfit all the time, right?"

Blake sighed for the umpteenth time. "Alright… have it your way."

"Oh, come on Blake, sound a bit more excited! Think of it this way, when is the last time we ever went on one of our friend dates?"

"Why do you still insist on calling them dates? We aren't dating, you know." Blake laughed regardless.

He took a stance, godly light shining down upon him as his pushed back his golden tresses. "Hey, I'm Jaune Arc, the picture every woman's dream," He gestured to the whole of his form, "Don't act like you don't want any of this."

Blake could only shake her head as she stood to her feet. "As you wish, let's go then."

"That's more like it!" Jaune held out his crook of his arm, Blake looked at him questioningly. "Come on, play the part. A girl hanging on my arm? Think of how jealous all the guys will get!"

Again, Blake could only shake her head, locking her arm with his as Jaune began leading them out of the library.

A date with his best friend.

Just like old times.

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

It was late.

Late… and wet.

Blake was just glad that she didn't have to experience anything more than the pitter patter of considerably heavy raindrops beating against the window. Stars twinkled faintly behind what little sky could be seen between the musky gray clouds, distant witnesses to the eternal cycle meant to water trees and fill oceans in their vulnerable little planet. Thunder rumbled the skies, with bright flashes of lightning cutting through space and striking before the echoing boom could catch up.

It was oft considered the most harrowing part of the cycle, but for what it was worth, she could appreciate the rain.

On its own, it offered a sort of strange silence that wasn't silent in the least; far from it, it was rather the ambience created by a repeated note that never got boring no matter how much one heard it. The darkness only completed the stereotypical dogma of the stormy night one might find in the stories of old, but therein lay its beauty.

But placing those idle ruminations aside, Blake let her mind simmer in the wayward thoughts and questions patiently waiting to flood her conscious space during the day instead, the ones that questioned her decisions, berated her choices… and missed her past. If it were some form of guilt-fueled desperation, she never may be able to find out.

Far be it from the ravenette that she missed the White Fang as it was now, no… it was a far cry from what it once was in better days. Times when there were peaceful protests and passionate strikes – defiance in the face of unjust prejudice, never violence. It was a cruel world still; even though the Vale government fully established faunus rights, completely equal to humans, a great many people still shunned and hated them.

How many of her kin had been harmed because of that? How many had been unfairly imprisoned, denied access to public needs, beaten, lynched in the streets? She barely dared to think on the stories of the assaulted that still raised the hairs on the back of her neck to this day…

Yet on the same line of thought, how many humans were killed because of the White Fang? Publicly executed, burned alive in blazing corporation buildings, captured and tortured…

Simply two sides to the same bloody coin. Where was that ever-evasive line of morality? What did it take to transcend this cycle of blood in the first place? As far as she could tell, those were questions that no one on either side of the war could answer. Nothing more than a poorly-justified barbaric brawl, each side doing only the worst things to one another throughout decades of unfounded hatred. Who was truly the evil side? Human society? The White Fang?

Could anyone choose the lesser of two evils if each was naught but a reflection of the other?

Her dead-eyed gaze in the mirror she'd been staring into hardened, her amber eyes regaining the determined fire of older days. Of better days. She was no longer going to be a part of this.

She was here with Jaune. This was her gateway to a better life – she never wanted for much, and the simple things always more than sufficed. Had she her own home, a plethora of books, food and a warm place to sleep… she would want for nothing else. Yes, her home now would do while she built the one of her future.

But before that…

Her eyes breaking the gaze locked in by their reflective selves, Blake glanced down at the body of her reflection before awkwardly adjusting the sides of her newest garment, 'This feels shorter than when I got it…'

The yukata was lovely, laced with only the softest charcoal plush and complemented by white lines running down the edge. Hugging her form comfortably, it proved to be rather fitting as comfy sleepwear.

She pursed her lips to the side as her gaze drifted past where most robes might continue. She just wished it covered more of her legs… despite the admittedly amusing reaction it elicited from Jaune when she tried it on at the store.

Boys.

Stepping out of the restroom, she tucked her clothes under her arm before making her way down the hall to Jaune's room. Thankfully, Jaune had the mind to set up a guest room after he found her on his bed the first time… Oum knew that they'd rather not repeat that sort of surprise again.

Finding his door wide open, a quick peek inside revealed the boy carting piles of sheets and comforters in his arms to and from his points of interest. However, she found an amused smile slowly creeping up on her features as she watched said blonde with a stack of sheets high enough to cover his face trying to do too many two-armed jobs with only one, the other reaching for the shelf in his closet which happened to be high enough to remain just out of his reach.

"You know… if you used the brain in that funny little head of yours, you might have realized that if you put down the sheets, you wouldn't be in such a struggling position."

Jaune's head spun left and right for a moment, chuckling as he finally got a gauge on her location, "Eat your heart out, short stack."

Blake rolled her eyes, the smile growing a little wider now, "Do you want a little help?"

"Not if you're wearing that 'robe'… thing."

"What. You seemed to like it before."

She tried her hardest to keep her deadpan straight and stifle her mischievous chuckle at Jaune's grimace and deep blush, undoubtedly at the mental image of her reaching up so high with her shorter frame without enough fabric to ensure modesty from behind, before stepping forward and lifting the comforters from his arm. He seemed to make it a point of looking at anything but her as she did so.

"Your choice in sleepwear is concerning."

Honestly, what was he so embarrassed about? There was nothing for him to look at. Still, it was somewhat endearing to the amber-eyed guest that he considered her modesty, perhaps more than she did herself. But then again… he was the one who'd suggested that friend date… and that sleepwear store. A subconscious action, perhaps? Perhaps. But this was Jaune.

Poor boy probably didn't even notice the Veronica's Secret name over the entryway as they walked in…

"You're depraved, that's what you are. You seek nothing but to tempt my innocent soul. Pervert."

"Really, name calling? That's what this has come to?"

Despite himself, Jaune had no qualms about erupting into laughter, freeing a plain white sheet from the top of the shelf at last before turning to his companion with a smirk, "Anyway, these are your comforters and sheets, so let's get these to your room so you don't molest my bed again."

He took the blankets from her, hefting them in his arms as he readied to head out.

"I think your bed likes me far more than it does you." Blake commented passively, flopping onto his duvet tauntingly as if the way it barely squeaked under her weight and molded itself around her curves proved her point.

"No, my bed's just a dirty prostitute. She'll let anybody sleep with her," Jaune retorted, a warm grin gracing his expression before lighting up in realization, "Ah geez, forgot the lightbulb in the room's gotta be changed… Blake, the spare's in in my desk drawer, can you get one?"

Blake simply crossed her arms, a defiant smirk shot at the blonde.

"Please!" Jaune flailed about before accidentally dropping the comforters and fumbling over them, ending up in a heap on the floor. One baleful eye reached her vision before his groaned reply followed, "Damn, you're difficult…"

Shooting him a cat grin in response, Blake swung her legs out the side of the bed and stood up, strolling over to the desk as Jaune worked to fold the comforters again while mumbling something about dumping a bucket of water on after she fell asleep.

She slid open the drawer, light bulbs within plain sight… as well as something else. It was slightly covered by the colorful discount light bulb package, something small and black nearly masked by the darkness of the room. Not invisible to her, though.

Curiously, she grabbed the object and pulled it out in front of her. And within an instant… the recognition came back to her like a crashing wave of nostalgia.

"You kept this…"

Jaune approached Blake from the side, comforters abandoned behind them, before looking at the little tome himself.

"Of course, you told me to hold onto it."

"Yes... I remember."

He glanced at her in question, her expression not complicated like he might've expected but entirely blank instead, "What… did you think I'd get rid of it?"

If she was being honest, she did. Many choices in her life had been hard, but none like that day. The day where everything she believed and cared for was snatched away from her, held high and completely out of her grasp. No matter how much she reached… she could never find it again. So what was the point of trying?

"…maybe," she replied quietly, only meeting Jaune's eyes for a second.

She saw a hint of some form of emotion twinkling behind his cerulean orbs but staring into his expression too long dwindled her spirit. She looked back toward the book in her hands, now refusing to meet his gaze. Maybe it would have been easier had Jaune forgotten about her, though she could feel her heart quake at the mere thought. But rationally, would it not have made it better? Blake doubted she had any semblance of good influence in his life – none that would warrant her stay, anyway.

Back then, a small part of her wanted to hold on. To keep him… but reality was a cruel affair, and even the things treasured most could be taken away. Just as it happened to her.

But this book represented that hope - hope that remained even after she lost the will to keep trying. A way to bog through the present by drawing on the joy from better days, using that to hope beyond all reason for a better future.

"Blake…" he began solemnly, trying to draw her attention. But now she couldn't look at him, turning her head away even when he reached his hand toward her cheek. She couldn't bear to look into his eyes, not now – not when so much had happened in the past that remained so fresh in her memory.

The silence permeating the air seemed to last much longer than the mere moment of time it ruled before the blonde continued.

"Let's read one."

Taken aback, Blake hastily turned back towards Jaune without paying mind to the sensation of the journal leaving her hands, "What do you mean?"

"Your journal entries… let's read one of them."

She blinked in thought, something within her fluttering at the idea, "Why? You've probably read them all by now, haven't you?"

"Well… not all of them," Jaune admitted with a sheepish shrug as he scratched the back of his head, "Still though, you know how much I love stories. And who better to tell me an engaging tale than a girl who biologically could've birthed one herself?"

A narrow-eyed deadpan at the smug blonde.

"...Really?"

"I regret nothing!" Jaune chuckled, leaping onto one side of the bed and allowing his back to lean against the wall as he patted the empty spot beside him, "Now hurry up, it's bedtime and I need my bedtime story. Consider this rent!"

Blake could only shake her head, taking a spot beside the boy as she snatched the book back from him, opened it up, and laid it on her lap. The neat, curvy words strewn on the worn pages popped out to her almost immediately, her brain already scanning through the words to remind herself of her own musings from long ago.

That was, after all, the purpose for this journal in the first place.

She looked at the young man next to her; his eyes brimming with anticipation, chuckling as he nudged her excitedly. She suddenly found any lingering argument against commencing the 'payment of her rent' whittle away... besides, it had been awhile since she'd gotten a good read.

"I remember meeting Jaune for the first time as clear as day..."

"D'awww shucks, really?"

"Shush," she rebuked with a mock-stern glare before returning to the page with a smug smile… Jaune soon realizing that she'd begun providing her own commentary as well. "A younger me, a more… naïve period of my life that I look back on and cringe at. A seven-year-old me that simply wanted to pick flowers from a public garden. It was my first time out in the city of Lore and my caretaker Tukson had some errands to run. While everyone else was shifty with me, he was always kind and protected me... anyway…"

 _I liked the air, the energy around me, the people…_

 _I was content._

 _...Until this random boy approached me._

 _He seemed to be wired to some permanent internal setting that kept him excited and cheerful… All. The. Time; it was very off-putting, honestly. And considering how much I like my personal space, I knew already that I wouldn't get along with him._

 _Yet he stubbornly invaded my business, asking what I was doing and everything else under the sun. It grated my nerves with an astringent severity I could only liken to Tukson running those Oum-forsaken claws down a chalkboard right in front of me. I finally got the chance to shut him up by making him go find a flower for me, a nightshade._

 _Little did he know that nightshades aren't indigenous to Vytal. So surely, he was out of luck._

 _It didn't matter, though. I was able to return to my own devices, my commiserations for the boy whose name I could only vaguely remember anymore long forgotten before the unexpected ensued._

 _Within a few short minutes, he came back; I fully anticipated his dramatic apology and tear stained expression…_

 _But he'd found it._

 _An actual nightshade held in that dirt-stained hand of his, the annoyingly winsome grin at his feat taking unwelcome residence in my thoughts even long after we parted..._

 _I couldn't believe it._

 _But of course, that's when my caretaker showed up, and honestly, I'd never seen him so angry before. Tukson pushed him away from me, knocking him onto the ground and telling him to stay away. I felt terrible for him._

 _Before I could say anything, Tukson grabbed my hand and pulled me away._

 _I wasn't for it… but I wasn't against it, either. I just hoped these things became easier when I grew up; I look forward to making these decisions on my own without someone having to hold my hand and drag me along the way. Because at that moment, that was exactly what I didn't like._

 _All I could do was watch as I was slowly taken further and further away from that strange boy who'd brought me the nightshade..._

Blake heard Jaune sigh before speaking up, "Hard to believe that even back then, faunus and humans still were at odds."

"It hasn't changed," Blake admitted flatly, "In truth, it's only gotten worse since the war started. Only now, instead of steadily wiping each other away, both sides have agreed to try and destroy every trace of each other. It's nothing but bloodshed out there now."

"Can't be the same forever though, right? Haven't you ever thought that the White Fang could change?"

She had. Many times. Millions of times. The only problem was that there was no easy answer to that question. The Fang ran on blind 'belief' in the shared goal of equality – although, by their standards now, it was just a guise for 'faunus superiority'. At the same time, the Vale side of the war wasn't exactly helping things along. Outright countering that stupid idea with their own tactless propaganda.

How could she change over a decade's worth of White Fang accomplishments? It was a solid foundation, built from the ground up. The more time she spent deliberating on the subject, the more she realized...

She had not a single clue.

"Sorry," Jaune said, wrapping his hand around her own as he noticed her growing frown of consternation, "Just… don't think about that right now. I'm just happy you made the choice to leave."

"Me too," Blake lightly nodded, turning to face him with a weak smile, "Thank you Jaune… for everything."

"You're my friend Blake, you don't need to thank me… a belly rub would suit just as nicely."

Blake leaned on his shoulder with a single chuckle, simply letting her hand rest in his as the smell of the night air seeped into the room. That's when one inquisitive amber eye opened, and she spotted the wide-open window, cold air pushing on through.

"Your window is still open," she mumbled lazily at the young man just as her mind slowly began slipping away from her. The world around her slowly became less and less coherent, even as she let her body loosen up and rest contently against the human beside her.

A human who simply yawned and replied good-naturedly, "And whose fault is that?"

The last words Blake heard; sight, sound, and finally conscious thought blurring into the night… with a lingering smile on her face that remained long after finding respite in sleep.

* * *

 **The fluff cannot be more real. XD**

 **With this second upload and forward Phantom and I are going to be fixing up and incorporating things from canon.**

 **B/N:** Like, even up to v5+.

 **We get a little subplot here, as you know there is a war going on, and I suppose by now you realize that the war has gotten and continues to get worse. We also got to see a lot of Blake's reasoning as to why she left, but in much more depth.**

 **I'd say this chapter helped to establish Jaune and Blake's relationship with each other; in moments of sadness, in moments of happiness, when they're relaxing, etc. Hopefully we kept them both in character, but it would make sense if they were a least a little OOC. I mean honestly, can we all say we act the same way to other people as we do with our closest friends? I know I don't.**

 **I know timelines can be confusing, but here's a little backdrop of Jaune's and Blake's relationship in terms of timespan.**

 **This war has lasted for five years before Blake leaves the Fang. So, it started when Blake and Jaune were 12, but they did not become friends until they were 14.**

 **The journal reading was a point in time when they were kids that they'd met before, but Blake didn't remember him until 7 years later. Which is why they'd met each other then but weren't friends until much later.**

 **As you probably have figured out, something happened that forced them apart. A time of which lasted for about a year and a half. So Jaune and Blake's friendship blossomed from ages 14 to 16, and soon after they had to separate.**

 **Hope that helped! If you have questions, feel free to PM me or PhantomScribe.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:** Ring around The Rosy

* * *

 **B/N:** So yeah, TPS checking in. I'm like, writing this chapter so… all the hate-reviews and angry PMs will be forwarded to me. Thank you for your time in reading this pre-chapter PSA!

Oh, and cover art was made by me as an artsy-fartsy gift to the bomb co-writer/owner of this fic! You can even see my profile pic photo-bombing at the top right corner. For symbolism and crap… like a BOSS.

Knightshade 4 Life!

Anyways…

* * *

A single sigh. A single sip. And the wizened man took a seat amid the subtle, nigh-constant ticking surrounding the wide space around him.

"Rousing speech, sir."

He looked up, sparing a glance to the woman before him who was all business as always. Her rigid stance, her tattered cape catching the little nuances that every displacement of air in the wide office might let slip, her every article of clothing pressed and wrinkle-free. How she found the time to attend to those everyday matters in the middle of a war was always just one more reason for his deep respect towards her, yet at this moment, he found that such respect he knew she reciprocated towards him felt unfounded.

"Rousing, perhaps. But if only words could stop such bloodshed…"

Silence crept over the office, the ticking once again filling the pause that overcame them at the Headmaster's - no, _General's_ \- words. His dark-eyed gaze drifted upwards to regard the massive gears above them as they churned away, gears of time that were unrelenting in their motions and so faithful to every movement that he sometimes entertained the possibility that they knew a future that those speaking underneath them had yet to see…

"And they can, through the hope they infuse in those willing to listen," the woman stated firmly across from him, idly pushing back a bang of golden hair out of her face, "Hope must be conveyed, whether it be through faith or folly. Keeping hope inside the souls of the people and our soldiers is imperative if we are to win this war."

"Hm… That, and some decent fighters…"

The two shifted their sights onto the third person in the room, a man leaning against one of the few transparent columns in the space with a silver hip flask inches from his scruffy face.

"That's rather crude of you… Qrow," the woman subtly rebuked with a trace of irritation in her words.

She didn't look very happy with his presence; she never was, really, tolerating it only through Ozpin's non-negotiable orders.

"You expected something else?" the black-haired man retorted without a shred of remorse, swallowing a generous swig of spirits with a relieved gasp of breath right after, "To be fair, Glynda, even you've got to be more cynical about our current standpoint. The White Fang are winning. And the two of you know it. Or am I wrong?"

Ozpin's fingers interlaced as he looked down on the marble-esque bureau; his visage betrayed none of his thoughts, but if he was doing anything else but thinking, it'd be counterproductive.

"No one is winning, Qrow," he finally began, his pensive tone and morose expression slowly monopolizing the attentions of the adults in the room, "This is war, and all I see are people taking each others' lives in more gruesome and creative ways every time I look, like virulent cells engulfing one another if only to survive another day… even if by doing so, they slowly eviscerate the very hope of the life they once strived for with their unending thirst for blood. You see two sides, each with their own noble cause, each with their own vision of a utopian way of life..."

Ozpin finally glanced up, the faintly restrained furrowing of his brows evident over the two interlaced fists now raised up to prop his chin, "All I see is a plague... My only hope is to be able to salvage what's left of our kingdom before it's consumed beyond salvation."

A much more stagnant silence filled the air after he finished, finally interrupted by an exaggerated swig of Qrow's flask before the veteran fighter wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Damn. Should've given that speech instead…"

"Glynda makes a point," Ozpin continued, the grim air surrounding him now dissipating a bit as he took a calm sip of his own brew, "In the meantime, hope is the only medicine proven to revitalize our troops and their squadrons. Five years of war is five years too long in my opinion, and seeing that we've lost three of our four most valuable assets to the chaos, our mission to keep the Valean forces fighting while we find a new vessel is of utmost priority. I trust you've mined useful information on the White Fang forces' current whereabouts."

"Ay-yep," Qrow noted lightly with an indicative point of his flask at the silver-haired man, pushing himself off the column he was leaning against as if ready to take literal center stage in the area along with the conversation as well, "The Fang's right where we'd expect them to be - holed up in Mountain Glenn and Forever Fall where our forces have the least presence and advantage. That presents good news and bad news… which one you guys wanna hear first?"

Two level stares in reply, though Glynda's was noticeably sharper.

"Good news, then. Looks like that's probably what you'd want first," Qrow added without missing a beat, "They don't seem too keen on exploring further options on angles of direct attack into the city and no one has dropped any hints leading us to believe that they know about that final asset we got sitting right under our as- ah, you know what I'm talking' about…"

Taking an even sigh at the man's dry humor, Ozpin simply raised a brow, "And the bad news… Major Branwen?"

"Yeah, the bad news… bad news is that there seems to be lots more movement around those two strongholds these days. Almost makes those little raid parties poking around our perimeter defenses look like a distraction compared to all the muss and fuss they got goin' over at HQ, y'know? Maybe Goodwitch here can elaborate on the brains behind the brawn. I just hunt the Fang, it ain't my job to understand 'em."

Ozpin glanced over to the woman beside him, Colonel of the Vale Army Intel Division, "Glynda?"

"Indeed," she began primly, a raised brow accompanying her sideways glance at the smug Major beside her before presenting her report at the Headmaster, "Aside from a few suspected organization changes in the past few weeks, I presume due to the death of certain high-ranking officials, their command structure remains the same nearly hierarchical format that we were able to discern with our spies in the beginning of the war. How such ease of communication across continents without use of the CCT takes place continues to elude us, though we now suspect that they've used unchecked and otherwise derelict signal stations across the globe to construct a parallel network that eliminates the need for separate Generals across all four kingdoms."

"In other words, they've billy-jacked the pride and joy of Atlas' gift to the world after the First Great War eighty years ago and somehow made it better," Qrow added dismissively, "And I'm asking the same question she is - how those mooks were able to do that from their dingy caves is still beyond me."

"There are a great deal of things I consider to be beyond you, Branwen."

"Glynda, please," Ozpin noted flatly in a tone that neither condemned nor condoned her retort, not that it dampened Qrow's mood any, the Major simply slurped his drink for a while to hide his mischievous smirk at the woman's evident call to attention, "Though the arguments here stand to reason that there are unknown means by which the White Fang have maintained organizational advantage over our forces, I believe we may have new evidence that points towards the source for their current technological advances…"

Reaching down into his ample U-shaped desk, Ozpin ran his palm down the solid end of the tempered glass only for the following beep at the successful palm-scan to reveal that it was anything but solid. With the pressurized sound of air filling the room, A small drawer popped open from which the man took out a small, dusty black dossier to place on the desk and spin around so it was right-side up for the commanders to read. Telekinetically pulling it to the end of the table, Glynda took a few steps forward and picked it up, brushing her hand across the front of the parchment-colored first page to read the tiny header print correctly.

"Merlot Industries? How-"

"-Would they manage to glean any technological knowledge that the kingdoms didn't already have before being shut down?" Ozpin finished even as Qrow snuck up behind her and daintily snatched the dossier out her grasp with surprising dexterity for a drunkard, "My questions exactly. However, after receiving word originally of their setting up a Mountain Glenn base, I was forced to ask myself just why the White Fang would choose such a location that could prove to be so vulnerable to Grimm hordes."

"Easy. Direct line to the city in case they decide to breach it. I still have squadrons casing the cave for activity just in case."

"But there has to be something more," Ozpin continued, catching the attention and raised brow of the scruffy-faced Qrow, "A few decades ago, Merlot Industries was the leading commercial tech industry with plenty of military contracts to spare. Not only were their updates to Cross-Continental network strength and kingdom infrastructure essential to the progression of modern living, they were innovative. Not to mention that they had set up one of Remnant's most secure Research and Development departments, second only to that of Atlas' Division of Applied Sciences."

"So you're saying that there may have been unfinished projects locked in R and D that never left the premises?" Glynda inferred, her intrigue clearly piqued at the idea and only further aroused with Ozpin's definitive nod.

"Of that, I have no doubt. There were great minds in that company who'd do anything to ensure their most valuable technology never fell into military hands… my only concern is to verify if members of the Fang came across that conjecture years before now… Qrow?"

The flask-toting leader glanced up and down between the dossier and the General, evidently unsettled somewhat by the implication, "My forces are spread thin enough as is - I hate to say it, but we ain't got any squadrons that we can afford to pull out without opening a serious hole in our tracking of enemy activity. Which I assume is only gonna get even fishier real soon…"

A slight pause and pensive sip of coffee before glancing at his Deputy, "Glynda?"

"I… cannot say it would be easy. Majors Oobleck and Port have had difficulties sustaining proper rotations along the perimeter as of late, and as you know, my Intel division's finest squadron received major losses as well," Glynda replied morosely, her gaze dropping before suddenly perking up with a thought and pulling out her tablet, "However… and I know this may be a bit soon, but I do believe we have a current cadet squadron whose preliminary results show staggering promise as a reconnaissance task force. The… ah, here it is… the Eighty-Third Tactical Cadet Squadron."

"Nah, that won't work," Qrow drawled, who was apparently reading over the woman's shoulder the whole time before she turned up her nose in distaste at the stench of alcohol in the man's breath beside her, "Trekkin' out of the perimeter is an eight-man job. Minimum. They only got six."

"Then there's no time to lose," Ozpin noted dutifully, the tone in his voice showing that he was moving forward with his trusted colleague's judgement, "I suggest you draft at least two more able-bodied cadets out of our applicants as soon as you can, Glynda. I'm sure your… reputation… with drafting application physical exams will provide us with the best new fighters for the job."

"I can certainly arrange for the squadron's completion with the highest quality cadets I can find by month's end latest with our current roster," Glynda informed, adding with a hint of a smirk at Ozpin's raised brow in question, "End of week at best."

A benign smile smoothly appearing over his features, Ozpin replied, "Very well, that is good. Any viable exit points for our newest reconnaissance squadron, Major?"

"Not a damn thing," Qrow replying airily in the gruff manner only he could perfect – Glynda rolling her eyes as the man refused to stifle his drunken burp, "I ended up having to go there myself over the past week just to be sure, but White Fang security is airtight. No holes. If we want Merlot, we're gonna have to make one."

"Make one?" Glynda echoed, already knowing where this was headed, "And what, pray tell, would you suggest?"

"Easy. Hope that new 'elite' force of yours has the gun power to punch through the city. Force the White Fang there to retreat immediately," Qrow noted with a shrug, "If they play their cards right, the squadron might even get the mooks to leave behind crucial information such as maps, schematics, plans and whatever else they hole up in that building... if anything, of course. And, at the very least, we could be able to catch a few prisoners."

"At least firepower won't be an issue," Glynda noted as she glanced over the personnel files once again, "Their current corporal has the highest-rated Semblance and physical scores we've seen in years… not to mention their Captain..."

"Ah right, the 'Iron Maiden of Mistral,' on permanent loan after her old man - I think like, three Mistrali Generals ago - bit one while fighting against a rogue coalition of disgruntled Anti-Faunus fanatics… can't even begin to go over the irony in that," Qrow added, seeming to almost be ready to go into a rant to do exactly that when Glynda cut him off with a narrow-eyed glare.

"But they're simply youths about to embark on their first mission, not an 'elite' force trained to wrangle prisoners on a whim-"

"-Oho! This coming from a woman whose 'finest' squadron is made up entirely of fighters under the age of twenty! Fat lot of good that did you."

"Enough," Ozpin sighed out, though with enough of a stern tone behind it to get the result he wanted before continuing, "There are many things in this world I feel you're free to question, Qrow. As a matter of fact, I'd be the first to vouch for that single redeeming quality of yours being the sole reason for your current position. But of all the intelligence we've discussed today that you may challenge, Colonel Goodwitch's decision in this case, is not one of them."

At that, Ozpin was almost surprised to see Qrow draw back with an emotion akin to being genuinely hurt, his hand reaching up over his back to touch his weapon consolingly, "My only redeeming quality? But what about my legendary-?"

"And what is it that you'd do with custody over said prisoners?" Ozpin spoke, deciding to cut back to the point before the meeting could derail again.

At that, Qrow's smile simply became predatory in nature, the drunkenness gone and his hardened red eyes burning with an infuriating intensity, "If I do get one, I'll guarantee any information out of them. I can assure it with full disclosure of my actions."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," the Valean General replied with a sip of his coffee even at the face of the dangerous aura the veteran fighter in front of him was giving off, the brew's heat down to his stomach providing the only sense of serenity he'd ever need to weather any surprise, "Resorting to such… barbaric tactics will not look good in the public eye. The rights of faunus are as clear and fair as the rights of humans."

"For citizen faunus, Oz," Qrow corrected with a raised finger, "But the White Fang are terrorists. You speak of equality and fairness, right? I would do the same to humans if they were the ones attacking our cities. Trying to appeal to the faunus population through mercy towards the enemy will only end with your discharge from the Valean Armed Forces."

Glynda seemed ready to cut in literally, stepping toward Qrow before her superior raised a hand in front of her. Qrow remained passive, simply returning an idle gaze back at Glynda's enraged glare; she could paralyze even the toughest men with those piercing eyes, but Qrow was a different case altogether.

"I am fully aware of that," Ozpin said upon dropping his hand the moment Glynda retreated back to her initial position, "But be that as it may, we cannot set an example for the future if we do not restrain our methods. Should we give into hatred as the White Fang have, wouldn't we simply be creating a new world of 'equality and fairness' with an act of ruthless discrimination?"

Qrow didn't respond, Glynda clearly satisfied with the rhetoric even as the drunkard defiantly took an emphatic swig of his booze.

"What is your suggestion then, General?"

Ozpin's gaze slowly dropped towards his mug, watching the reflection of the ever-ticking gears above them through the caramel-colored brew as though all the answers to life were within their motions. If only it were that easy – to tune into the endless cacophony of sound and ascertain the way for Vale to trounce the White Fang through the secrets within time itself. But it wasn't that easy… it never was, and it never would be.

"Information. That is what we need," Ozpin noted in resolution as he stood, "Once we have sufficient information, then we can proceed with plans. For the past five years we've endured the assault of the enemy… it is time we went on the offensive. Keep your channels open if you would, the Intel and Counterintelligence divisions you two respectively lead will be the key to our new objective."

Qrow grumbled, making a motion to take another swig as he looked at Glynda before blinking at the lack of alcohol coming through. In his moment of quickly-returning sobriety thanks to his monstrous Aural metabolism, he had to admit that Ozpin was correct. Both sides of the Intelligence Command would have to work together this time around; what mattered now were results, not personal qualms.

"So until then, what do we do?" he rasped out to the General as he screwed the cap back on his silver flask.

Ozpin's fingers tightened around the head of his cane, making only one remark before taking leave with Glynda not far behind.

"Pray for a long period of ceasefire."

For a few moments after Ozpin and Glynda walked off, Qrow nodded contemplatively in thought before his first truly sober realization in several weeks set in.

"Wait… were those my nieces in that squad?"

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

It tickled, at first. A touch, a brush, maybe… but then it nibbled, and bit.

After what felt like a few minutes trying to claw his way back to unconsciousness, Jaune reluctantly opened his eyes to find that yet another chilled breeze across his face was causing his cheek to twitch.

Well, the breeze, and a certain furry appendage of a certain catgirl lazily dozing on top of him with her head comfortably cradled along his neck. Jaune looked down, glancing for the first time in years at the ears she'd once shown him with the reddest - and frankly most adorable - blush he'd ever seen from her, as cautious to keep from touching them directly now as he still felt he needed to be for them then. Despite her assurances that it was alright, Jaune figured that any surprise contact on them now would be less than favorable since she'd gone to sleep with her bow on - likely a habit reinforced by several years' worth of precautionary measures. So even though it'd fallen at some point in the night as she nuzzled herself against his side, Jaune made sure to give them their space before softly making his way out of bed.

It'd been forever since they'd had a sleepover like this… and he was absolutely certain that Blake deserved breakfast in bed.

Thankfully, he had just the ingredients to make it count.

Nevertheless, after forty-five minutes of roasting, sizzling, poaching, dropped items, and muffled profanity, Jaune was sad to say that she was nowhere to be found when he returned to his room.

Narrowing his eyes at the bed that had the sheets dragging off the side in what seemed like a drowsy attempt to get off, however, he mumbled in thought, "Comforter's gone... hm… if I were a sleepy cat, where would I be…?"

He snapped his fingers in realization before he could realize that he didn't have the hands free to do so, leading to one of the plates tumbling down to the clean white carpet below.

"Juuuuust peachy."

Quickly putting the second plate aside and disposing of the spoiled meal on the floor, Jaune quickly regained his bearings and settled with a slightly exasperated smile in anticipation as he made the short walk to the library before finding her reading peacefully in one of its large leather couches… half-buried under the large plush comforter wrapped all around her.

Her ears under the bow she'd put on again noticeably perking up in his direction as he entered the room, her head rose from behind the 'The Faunus in The Striped Pyjamas' book - a favorite of hers, he recalled - with a small smile.

"There you are, I almost thought I smelled-" and her smile suddenly dropping, her face softened completely in realization before she was out of her comforter fort and in front of him in a flash, wide-eyed as she took a long and totally not-subtle whiff of the food, "Roasted haddock and poached egg. You didn't…"

"Yes, I did," Jaune noted triumphantly, his smile more than doubling as he watched her take the first bite right off the plate on his hand and seeing her lower lip tremble with pure joy.

"Mmf… Joun, thif iz ser gerd…" lightly taking the plate off his hand with a cheeky grin as she finally brought herself to swallowing the succulent morsel, she continued, "Haddock is my favorite in the morning, right next to tuna. You remembered…"

"I did. It's not every day you get an old friend crashing at your place, so I thought I'd make it special."

"Well thank you, Jaune… but where's yours?" Blake cordially asked, Jaune's dramatic sigh telling her everything she needed to know as she immediately tied it together with the crash from earlier, pursing her lips in a small smile of attempted condolence before crossing her eyes upwards at a loose strand of her bow that'd fallen in front of her face, "Oops. One sec."

"You still wear your bow?" Jaune asked, considering for a moment that she'd gone a fair amount of the first night and day at the manor entirely without a bow even as she currently deftly re-tied the knot over her head with one hand while balancing the food in her plate with the other, "You know you don't have to around here, it's just me…"

"Mm, I know. But honestly I still feel naked walking around your house without it," Blake explained casually, earning a moment of hesitation from the young man.

"Oh… um… okay?"

Her short pause in realization as to what she'd said in light of his reaction then led to a raised brow promising mischief at the blonde, "And you certainly wouldn't be okay with that, right? Or did you just picture me naked, hm?"

Jaune's reaction of practically choking on his own spit with a furious blush as he adamantly shook his head only proved as fuel for her devices.

"Not even a little?"

"N-N-No… of course not!"

Her smirk lingered a bit before she gave him a nonchalant shrug, "Oh well. Thanks for the breakfast."

He glared at her as she sashayed back to her sofa, her hips under that thrice-accursed form-fitting yukata swaying with every step before she effortlessly turned on her heel to plop back down on the recliner with legs crossed under her plate of food. The satisfied smirk on her face as she took another bite of the meal only caused him to glower at the… less public side of the ravenette's occasionally catty personality.

"Y'know, you've got a pretty weird idea of a joke, you know that?"

"You have a pretty weird idea of a 'friend date,' you know that?"

Jaune blinked in thought before plopping down on his own couch opposite hers in defeat, "Touché."

Needless to say, the next few minutes seeing her truly savoring every bite of breakfast with happy 'unfs' and content hums of enjoyment did ease Jaune's miffed mood a bit, the pair of new roommates fine with picking out books and spending time in their own literary worlds with nary a word to share.

At least, that was the ravenette's case for the first hour or so. But what started as a happenstance glance at Jaune as he read his book became frequent glances stolen at the blonde as she studied his demeanor. She rested lying face-down on the comforter over the couch, legs slowly kicking above and behind herself as she regarded the young man who was as calm and innocent as she'd always remembered him from behind her book… what other guys might've jumped on as a chance to flirt a few minutes ago - and Oum knows she'd had more than enough of that in the Fang, for which she was thankful to have Adam aroun- ...never mind those thoughts - Jaune had genuinely backpedaled from as if that were territory to steer clear from in general. She supposed that his respect for their friendship would never let him do such a thing.

Now that… that was something she could trust. She might've even smiled at that fact… if it weren't for the much more blatant fact needing to be addressed right now.

Was Jaune… actually reading a book? A thick, leather-bound, no-picture book!? And the tome known as 'War and Peace,' one of the longest novels ever written at that!

"Jaune… what are you reading?" Blake finally commented, knowing full well the answer but saying it aloud as if to validate what she couldn't believe.

"What, this?" he replied smoothly, a matter-of-factly tone in his voice as he idly flipped another page as if nothing were wrong with the world, " _Contrary_ to what you may believe, I've actually graduated to much higher forms of… um… _literary_ devices since you've been gone!"

Deadpanning at his obvious attempt at an articulate vocabulary, Blake retorted flatly, "I see… and does that include the intellectual marathon of digesting a Tolstoyan novel that for some reason just seems to include colored panels in that last page you turned?"

And with that, his confident facade shattered, the blonde giving her an almost-apologetic smile with a nervous chuckle before letting the massive book drop to reveal the X-Ray and Vav comic underneath.

With a short chuckle of her own, Blake smirked at Jaune, legs still kicking idly above her as she added, "You really haven't changed, y'know… and I couldn't tell you how much I appreciate that. In a war like the one going on around us, it's rare to find anything resembling an anchor when everything around you is being torn out by the roots…"

Jaune's smile now but a shell of what it once was, his gaze simply dropped down before noting with a nervous chuckle as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, "Heh… thanks? That's cool, I guess."

Blake narrowed her eyes in realization; what might usually have passed as modesty wasn't lost to her senses… there was something more.

"What's wrong."

"What?" he replied, his dark cloud seemingly forgotten as he glanced at Blake in question.

"You just did that thing you do; something's wrong."

"What thing?"

"That… thing," Blake attempted to passively explain, "You did a thing yesterday when I asked you about your family and you did it again just now…"

Blinking in thought, Blake came to a slow conjecture which she tried to lay on him as nicely as possible lest it be what was causing his current consternation, "Is… your mom still the Admiral?"

Joy Arc. Wife. Mother of eight. And currently serving as the Admiral of Remnant's Armed Forces against the global scourge considered to be the White Fang.

Logically, a reason for consternation considering Blake's prior affiliations. It needn't be said why they both chose that their friendship remain out of public eye during their time together as youths, a situation Jaune could easily recall… and use to his advantage to dodge the true answer to her question altogether...

"Yeah, she is. She's filling in for the late General of the Vecchian Armed Forces while they bring the Colonel up to speed on Vacuo's newest offensive strategies. I guess, I've just been worked up about her safety lately while she finishes up over there," Jaune admitted, seemingly relieved as he scratched the back of his head again.

"Still lying," was all Blake sighed out in reply, now kicking her legs out the side of the couch and putting her book down before sitting up and gazing at Jaune with a slight frown.

Needless to say, the blonde in question sputtered a rebuttal as he tried to sit up as well, "W-Whaddaya mean lying? I'm- I wouldn't-"

"Really," Blake retorted with a deadpan, reaching up and scratching her head indicatively with a mock-nervous smile, "See that? You do that whenever you become evasive. A characteristic which usually accompanies a lie..."

Jaune furrowed his brows at the cat girl, instead dismissing the allegation with a wave, "Pfft, no way that's a tell!"

"Yes it is."

"Nope."

"Seriously, I've known it for years," Blake finally revealed, amber eyes showing no hint of doubt, "And like I said, you haven't changed a bit."

Matching her gaze glare for glare, Jaune finally shot back after a brief moment in silence, "Okay. Prove it."

Much to his surprise, or chagrin, Jaune watched a smug smile grow across her features as she looked up in thought, lips pursing to the side as her hand dug down beneath the plentiful folds of comforter beneath her before finding her object of interest. Of course it was the journal.

Making a pretty decent imitation of Jaune's attitude the day before, Blake glanced at him with a small grin as she pointedly patted the spot beside her on the couch like he'd done previously, to which Jaune stood up with a grunt.

"Your happiness annoys me."

"Welcome to my world."

Walking over and setting the practically-polished plate of haddock on the coffee table between both couches, Jaune plopped down next to Blake, nuzzling himself back on the plush leather cushion until their shoulders were barely a handbreadth apart. Satisfied with his demeanor, even though he currently crossed his arms under a flat expectant stare, Blake simply directed her attention to the small black book in her hands and flitted through the pages to a point about halfway through. What Jaune didn't expect, however, was when she then handed it to him with her thumb resting over the entry header in question.

"Your turn."

"Wh-," Jaune began in protest, but remembering he had a point to prove and topics to avoid, decided to stall for as long as he could as he petulantly all but snatched the book out of her hand, "Fine. I start here?"

Blake nodded, her smile still there as she leaned against him and perched her chin on his shoulder as if to ensure he were recounting the events correctly. Glaring at her with a final sigh, Jaune turned to the entry and resigned himself to beginning.

"Adam always told me that a man can only be as great as the sum of his parts. I'm still getting used to him and his sayings just as much as I'm getting used to the unlikelihood of being paired with arguably the most renowned up-and-coming soldier in the entire organization in the first place. Even Tukson seemed surprised at first, but went along with upper members' decision with a thumbs up. I'd always heard his conversations were as quick and efficient as his blade… and such rumors certainly didn't fail to live up their claims…. Okay, I don't see how this has _aaaanything_ to do with me-"

"Hey, don't interrupt a narrative in mid-swing," Blake rebuked, lazily smacking Jaune on the chest even though he had to bite back a smirk at how she seemed to wince as her hand struck the more-developed-than-expected muscle beneath, "Ow… it's rude."

Making sure his eye-roll was especially obvious, considering it was a habit he'd picked up from her years before, he returned to the excerpt with a groan, "Guhhhh, suit yourself. Here goes…"

 _But enough about Adam. I'd taken a leave of absence for a few days to get the new - and admittedly brutal - recon training out of my mind, and here I am still writing about it. I'm ashamed of my brittle resolve…_

 _Anyway, today… wasn't a good day._

 _I was with Jaune, as could be expected outside of camp, and he's taken the news of me actually taking a more involved position in the organization much better than I thought. But then it happened._

 _We were outside talking about well… I don't remember… just, talking. Funny how one can simply just talk to someone about anything, even the most trivial things like why Dust comes in different colors or random things like shoe sizes… I actually find that to be pretty nice about Jaune - no rush to get to some time-pressing point, no looks of judgement if you don't know something… maybe that's why we've continued doing this for so long…_

 _But I digress._

 _We were outside talking when his family came home. I'd never met them before - there were so many of them - and it seemed he'd been caught by surprise as if he weren't expecting them until later… but what was unexpected was his immediate reaction of getting the two of us to our feet and rushing to the backwoods by the manor before we could be seen. They seemed like nice people though, even though I did feel sorry for the father - I forget his name - when I saw him at first..._

 _But Jaune looked so worried… as if we were in danger or something, but all he told me was to stay there for a minute and he'd be right back. I'm not sure what'd gotten him so worked up about his family, but after a minute of waiting stretched into more like an hour… I decided to investigate._

 _The Arc residence was a large manor. And I mean large - as in I still got lost occasionally when I was in there. Though to be fair, my only area of concern in that place was the library. In any case, it was incredibly difficult to gauge their current location within the manor with my human ears, so against my better judgement, I decided to loosen my bow to triangulate their location. Finding them after that wasn't very hard._

 _They were shouting._

 _Realizing they were in a dining area on the first floor, I made my way over to see what was happening. His mother was standing over him, Jaune and his father seated at the dining room table - though I'm pretty sure the father wasn't actually in a table seat - and she was livid. Apparently, they'd seen us running away into the woods and apparently, they knew as well as I did that Jaune was a terrible liar._

 _I must've seen him scratching the back of his head at least a dozen times during their conversation, both parents seemingly becoming much more agitated right after he did so every time. Understandably so; I can only imagine how scandalous it must've looked - their son stealing away into the woods with some unnamed girl._

 _Reminds me of a scene from that Ninjas book I caught Tukson reading and then trying to hide from me as if he wasn't the other day. So I stole it. Haven't really gotten very far into it, but I'll have to get back to it after I'm done writing this._

 _Conjectures aside… it wasn't until later today that that Jaune finally told me - under great distress - that his mother was a high-ranking official in the Armed Forces, the very side of the war pitted in a death struggle against the Fang… us, and everything we stood for. It wouldn't be difficult to guess what might happen if she found that her son was associating with an enemy operative, especially if my picture ended up on the news after our new recon team raided another one of their Dust-houses._

 _Jaune seemed almost certain that I wouldn't come back after that day. He said he'd understand if I didn't… but that he wished that I'd come back anyway. I probably shouldn't… but I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that…_

 _I will be going back tomorrow, even if I have to bring one of those dreadful X-Ray comics to read with him just to show my resolve._

 _I've seen only too many times how a man could easily become less than the sum of his parts. Racism, pride, greed, grotesque lascivity… and it didn't matter what a man or woman did, any part of them - be it values, family, or desire - could send them careening over the edge into what anyone would consider a deplorable being._

 _Adam says that all humans, in one way or another, are less than the sum of their parts, and that only Faunus can reach the pride and glory of being one whole sum by banding together with their brothers and sisters for the Cause._

 _I just wish that such hopeful views didn't have to be reached through such hopeless methods like war… Oum knows it's taken enough from everyone already. And no matter how much Adam may make sense as I find him speaking publicly to the soldiers more and more often as of late against humankind, I have to say that therein lies the one reason I'd ever have to beg to differ with our views._

 _Because if it's one thing I've learned about this particular human over the past several months, it's this, and unequivocally this;_

 _That Jaune Arc… is more than the sum of his parts._

Jaune finished reading the excerpt as both teens sat back on the couch together in the aged library… and simply kept staring. The book lay in his hands as if the page were going to turn itself, and Blake was only fully aware of the rising heartbeat within her companion's chest as he'd continued reading - determined, almost desperate even - to reach the end. And the seconds dragged on, his breathing silent but heavy as the pounding of his heart reverberated through his body and into hers.

"You… you really meant that?" he finally began after what almost felt like a painful silence, the two teens simply meeting each other's gazes as he continued, "What you wrote, about people? ...About me?"

Now, let it not be said that Blake was a sentimental person. She was not. As a matter of fact, she oft found it rather difficult to connect with others whose trifles and complaints were things she simply couldn't understand. Blame it on the war, blame it on her childhood, but the ravenette sometimes doubted that even if those things about her upbringing were any different that she'd have turned out any different in turn.

But at that moment, something about the look in his eyes or the tone in his voice that seemed to warn that something was about to break inside suddenly spurred that catgirl to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on tightly. She refused to let go, as if he would crumble into dust beside her if she did, and she only continued holding on even after he softly put the small, black book down to shakily return the embrace.

"Of course I meant it, Jaune," she finally began, her voice slightly muffled since her face remained pressed against his messy blonde locks, "And just like I told you when I came back, your family doesn't decide who you are… you do. If they and the war are of no concern to you, then neither are they to me when I'm around you… because as far as I'm concerned, when I'm with you, there is no War. And now, you don't have to worry about what your family thinks of me now more than ever - I left the Fang, remember?"

But as the silence dragged on, she slowly pulled back with a searching gaze through his eyes that were minutely darting back and forth, his breath hitching before he could only stutter out, "N-No, you're right… It's just… I'm…"

Blake was at a loss - she was terrible at consoling people and knew she wasn't going to get better at it anytime soon, but here she was in a situation that was demanding it… so going with the most logical option she could surmise at the moment that she figured might do the job, she let her arm, which was still lightly draped around Jaune's neck, drop a bit so her hand could rub slow, small circles on his back.

She had to admit that it felt awkward, but it seemed to work, Jaune's composure regrouping enough for him to begin sullenly, "I… didn't want to tell you yesterday, being that you'd just arrived and had gone through so much pain because of it…"

At that, he finally looked up, Blake surprised to find cerulean orbs seemingly pleading for forgiveness at they locked with hers even though his voice was still as determined as it ever was.

Now becoming increasingly concerned at Jaune's demeanor, especially since he'd seemed to put his qualms aside just to listen to her problems the day before, Blake continued her motions of experimental consolation, but this time adding words to her efforts.

"Jaune, don't worry. You can tell me - after everything, the least I can do is listen and try to understand what you have to say…"

"...Alright," Jaune finally began with a sigh and his gaze between his knees, rebuilding his determination to follow through with his internal decision, "Blake, I was about to leave the manor yesterday… would've left, actually, though of course I wasn't about to do that after I found you here… but even if I wanted, even if I could've, just stayed here with you for as long as the fighting continued, I knew I wouldn't be able to. So now I want - no, I need - you to know..."

"Blake, I'm planning on joining the war.

* * *

 **Getting this up on my last day off, at least for this week. You'd think I'd spend my relaxation time actually relaxing.**

 **The grind never stops, guys.**

 **You guys have no idea how happy you make me, to see how strong BTL still is even after I took it down. I'm thankful to Phantom for getting me in gear and putting it back up. I hope to do the same with other fics I'd gotten rid of in the future but that's way off.**

 **I truly appreciate the support.**

 **It is my motivation to bring you all the best experience that keeps me going, and every day I'm always trying to figure the best way to write a chapter. I always want to make the next one better. But I do mess up, as everyone does, and I'm glad you all are willing to criticize and point me in the right direction.**

 **Believe me, you all contribute so much to these fics.**

 **Not much to say in this chapter, for new readers I'm sure you saw the bomb coming but the best parts have yet to come! So lets keep it going!**

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 **PM me if you have questions, I'll try my best to answer quickly.**

 **ISA**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Clashing Mettle

* * *

 **Beta:** ThePhantomScribe

* * *

Her hands… they felt cold.

And like a virus, this chilly numbness infected her skin – the tingling feeling of a thousand insects scaling her body and engulfing her in a disgusting shell of obscure emotional turmoil.

Understandable, considering what she'd just heard.

Her companion had left her about an hour ago – which was probably for the best, because right now, Blake needed the comfort of solitude. Her brain whirred like the engines of a machine, the fuel known as raw emotion pumping into the pistons and shifting the entire block into turbo. In that moment, hundreds of thoughts and questions ransacked her brain, and due to her present shock, she was unable to utter a single one of them out.

Had she heard that right? No… no way. It was absolutely impossible that she heard… what she heard. Hadn't heard! It was a fib; a plain-faced lie that Jaune had conjured up just to evade her questions, as he usually did whenever he was nervous.

He didn't scratch his head, though…

Something caught in her throat; for a moment, she thought she might need the Heimlich, the churning heat from her body warming the cushion beneath it and her hair cascading over her shoulders while her eyes bore into the empty plate that sat on the marble table.

It was a lie. It had to be. No way could it be true…

Oh but it was, and she could deny it all she wanted, but it would not change reality…

Jaune Arc, her-

Blake paused, shuffling her weight on her seat with a disgruntled grumble as she realized where the thought was headed. She'd left the Fang… and for all intents and purposes, Jaune was now her only friend.

So… didn't only friend count as best friend? The ravenette scoffed at herself, her pride momentarily turning its nose at the admission even though she slowly found herself contemplating the converse of the argument. 'Best' certainly sounded much less lonely than 'only'...

Shutting her eyes, she gave out a slow, long sigh… was it really that far of a stretch to say he'd already been acting the part? Jaune had treated her better in a few scanty months than the vast majority of Faunus in the Fang had treated her in her entire life.

No… 'best' friend didn't sound too bad, she supposed… but said best friend was currently deciding to enlist in the Armed Forces.

Well, at least she could see now why he was hesitant about telling her.

Her amber orbs locked onto the ajar door of the study, mistakenly left open by the conflicted blonde who all but sprinted out - smart boy; had he stayed for much longer, Blake might've realized how angry she was and throttled him.

"That idiot…" she grumbled to herself, snatching her book up and opening the pages to her last bookmark. She needed to stop thinking about it, she needed a distraction from this… this… insanity.

Books had always been a comfort, a solace - a place where she could escape the reality of the real world and dive headfirst into a land of trials, tribulations… and occasionally, more mature themes.

And after adjusting herself more comfortably in her seat, she was set on doing just that. Simply sitting back and allowing her mind to be taken over by the glorious story now spread before her eyes...

…

…

That… idiot!

What could he possibly be thinking? Did Jaune even know what he was saying? This was war, _war!_ This wasn't like training at the Huntsman Academies to fight the Grimm; this was much, _much_ worse.

She would know, she'd been directly involved in it continuously for five years. If anyone knew what war was truly like, it was her. Which begged the question… did Jaune truly know what he was getting himself into?

He had to have seen the news, or heard stories. War was not an epic tale of heroics and grandeur, it was quite literally the personification of chaos and slaughter. With widespread battle razing the land, bullets tearing through the flesh of the living, and their charred, torn remains all but sprawled over the ground… what generation wouldn't be horrified at such atrocities, unless of course there were no generation left to balk at the irony that the only result of a war borne on discrimination was indiscriminate destruction for all?

But Jaune sounded so sure, though; so certain that this was something he wanted to do. Why else would he try to keep it from her?

Oh right, because he cared.

Sometimes Blake overlooked the fact that her friendship with Jaune was akin to a two-way street. She figured she knew everything about him, but tended to forget that he knew just as much about her. He probably knew that if he told her what he was going to do, she wouldn't like it. That it would hurt her.

And boy was he right…

The ravenette felt like some kind of thin wire was slowly coiling itself around her heart, droplets of blood oozing as it got tighter and tighter - sadistically inflicting the most pain in the slowest manner possible. Her hands trembled uncontrollably - forcing her to lay her book on the table for fear of either dropping it… or tearing it apart.

Why would Jaune want to join the Armed Forces? She thought as hard with every fiber of her being she could muster, but couldn't find a single legitimate reason for a… doofus, like Jaune to want to engage in countrywide bloody warfare.

No offense to her friend, but Jaune had always had the appearance and personality of a weakling. Not cowardice; Jaune was brave to a fault. He could be tough when he needed to be, but his physical skills often failed to live up to his words.

But she liked that about him. To her, Jaune didn't need to be big and strong… all she wanted was for him to be there. Who he was now was already far more than she felt she deserved, and she figured Jaune was happy with himself as well...

So why?

Should Jaune actually go through with this, he'd be exposing himself to horrors that no one as untainted as he should ever experience. Surviving the war was one thing; as many people had survived and continued to do so… but it was what the war did to you that dealt the real damage. But not even that scared her as much as the single thought that'd burrowed in her head ever since he blurted out that malodorous remark.

What if… Jaune got killed?

Fear gripped her like the coiling body of a snake; its seductive hiss promising safety in its grasp… only to crush her with its monstrous strength and devour her whole. If Jaune died… she didn't even want to consider it honestly, but she knew she had to. The weight of this moment was too great to not consider the safety of her one, and currently only, friend.

What an infuriatingly poetic gift of irony from the frank bastard known as real life. She had left the White Fang in order to escape this, hadn't she? She wanted to escape the war; to no longer be plagued by it with the deaths of comrades, murder of innocents, and success of breeding hatred. She ran from it all in order to come to a world she knew was safe and beautiful… and for what?

So that her best friend, the only person she had left in this world, could just charge straight into the mayhem?

No. Hell no.

Clambering up to her feet, Blake's eyes narrowed in unison with her shaking fists. She tried to quell the rage in her throat, keeping it to an almost beastly growl before it could erupt in an audible yell. She would set this entire debacle straight - Jaune hadn't the faintest clue of what he was getting into, so all she needed to do was convince him not to go. Which if she was being honest, wouldn't be hard. Despite his brave claim, Jaune was still as timid as a rabbit - easily frightened, quickly submissive.

She hated to exploit those weaknesses, it felt wrong… but this was to save his life! In case that boob didn't know, you only have one of those! And he was going to waste it on a pointless series of skirmishes that have lasted for half a decade?

Screw that.

Squaring her shoulders and setting her mind, Blake's stride matched her purpose as she exited the library, preparing herself for what she knew must be done.

The only question now… where was he?

Well great, so not only did she just receive the Oum-awful news that her friend was joining the Armed Forces… now she would be forced to look all over the Oum-damn house in order to find him, effectively to unleash her entitled rage.

 _Jaune… you better hope that I don't kill you._

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

 _I really hope she doesn't kill me…_

This was why Jaune didn't want to tell her - that mortified expression laced equally with shock made his heart lurch with guilt. But what was he to do? The plans to head for Vale were already set in stone - quit his job at the neighborhood coffee stop as a barista, packed his things, and anything else that needed to be taken care of. With all of that done, Jaune was finally ready to register and get drafted at the Valean Military Base: Beacon Academy.

But of course, something _had_ to get in the way…

Not that he was regretting Blake's appearance - it was a happy surprise, if anything. But he couldn't deny that putting her sudden appearance in a bigger perspective made it more problematic than it was supposed to be. He had been quite literally hours away from leaving; had Blake arrived any later, he would have never known she'd come back.

Which was bad! In a good way, but good… in a… bad way?

 _Ugh, I need some painkillers…_

But Jaune granted himself no such reprieve; stress igniting the spirit in his bones, it gave his arms the energy to beat down the human-sized wooden dummy that stood perched on a pole in front of him. Each blow was an audible thwap, pounding against the hardened structure with an incredible level of ferocity. A right handed palm-strike slammed into the the dummy, striking directly at its side. The impact caused the torso of the dummy to rotate rapidly…

Sending an outstretched wooden arm speeding toward his shoulder.

Without sparing a glance, the back of Jaune's left fist blocked it entirely, and after pushing it back with the follow-through of an elbow-strike, the torso rotated back again.

From there, things only got faster.

Blurry even; for Jaune's subsequent flurry of jabs, elbows, and kicks intercepted each arm of the dummy, sending them away and countering those that came back for more. His expression was oddly far from calm… yet not quite angered. Instead, it was a strange combination of focused tenacity… directing vast pool of energy deep inside him that had been waiting for sweet release.

His left straight punch nailed the opposing side of the dummy's neck, knuckles digging into it before pulling back out. Having applied just enough force to slow it down, Jaune torqued his body around and swung his foot into the face of the dummy with a growling yell.

The head was now hanging limply from the skin of the wood.

But he continued, blow after blow amongst the dozens of dummies scattered around the spacious courtyard. Loud grunts accompanied each attack, as though his very breath released the remaining power his hands and feet could not. Jaune was light on his feet as his next volley of strikes made to attack each and every one of them, throwing their forms into motion as they spun at the greatest speed they could maintain.

 _Do not get hit._

His brain's command was instantly put into effect, Jaune moving as quickly as his body would allow him. Blocking arms simultaneously as he struck others, spinning around to take on more, spinning back around again… his breath quickening with each passing second as he struggled to control it.

Seconds turned to minutes as he continued using his momentum to propel him toward his targets, new and old. A knee crashed into the head of one - the other foot planting into its shoulder before kicking off. The shaky dismount carried him backward, shoes scraping the ground as he skid a few feet before coming to a complete halt. But judging by the grimace on his face, he was yet to be satisfied.

"RrrrrrrrAGH!"

Wood shards and splinters burst from the back of yet another dummy, flying outward like spray as a single fist crashed through it. Its owner slowly clenched and unclenched his fingers in a momentary pause to reflect on the deed, as if getting a feel of what it was like to grab instead. After all, there were only so many dummies kept in storage at the manor to replace as needed. But grapples never came easy - not when his primordial training had never gotten past elementary punches and kicks.

It was a real pain the neck having to train himself… something he might not have had to do had he gotten the right help. His fist remained unbothered, at least - at one time, the least he had to look forward to at the end of a training day was tending to skinless, bloody knuckles. A reward, one could say, for his perseverance if nothing else. Now his hands remained unperturbed despite forcing themselves through an object with roughly the same density as a tree trunk. Mostly because they once _were_ tree trunks.

"Whew…" Jaune steadied his pounding heart as he ripped his arm free of the dummy, glancing over his forearm in case he was cut.

 _It's still not enough… damn._

Jaune's gaze made a lazy right, casting itself upon the lone sword resting just alongside its expanded shield and hanging on the arm of one of the only dummies he'd yet to attack.

"Then of course, there is still that…"

"Do you always talk to yourself so openly?"

Jaune nearly leapt out of his skin, whipping his attention around to catch Blake sitting idly on one of the tree stumps around the ring as she observed him with an expression he couldn't quite place…

Wait… no… could it possibly be?

Narrowed eyes, pursed lips… fists coiled tightly as her sights zeroed in on the only other person in the immediate area. Him.

 _Well, goodbye, world._

"How long… have you been there?"

He rubbed his shoulder as he looked away, hoping she failed to spot the bit of shakiness in his voice.

"Oh I dunno," she drawled, the sass in her voice as apparent as the black locks that streamed behind her shoulders. She kicked off the tree stump and approached him, her hard amber orbs boring into him as she got closer, "Since the second or third time you screeched like some pissy Taijitu?"

A moment passed between them, Jaune painfully unsure of how exactly to proceed. He felt so small, despite her being half a head shorter than him. Her crossed arms helped to accentuate her assumed superiority, and he felt his heart quickening at the sheer thought of her unbridled rage. He should've expected this… he did expect it… but it didn't make it any easier to handle, though…

However, his gaze followed the girl as she made her way to the dummy he'd just punched through. And to his surprise, she looked over it with analytical curiosity; as though there was something more to its demise than it seemed.

"You punched straight through a dummy compiled of this type of wood… not an easy feat."

"Uh… yeah," Jaune nodded with vigor; she didn't sound very angry… maybe this was his chance? "My dad once said these are pretty tough to break."

"Carved redwood trunks from Forever Fall, I know. It's comparable to the density of stone to some."

Jaune breathed out slowly, "Huh… didn't know that. Heh, thankfully we've got a load of extras in the depot behind the manor – barely started putting a dent in these things until earlier this year, anyway. I'd like to think I'm ready…"

Jaune instantly clamped his mouth shut upon Blake whirling around to face him, a deep scowl giving way to the anger so expertly hidden from the surface. Did he set her off?

"Ready? Your form is crap!"

Yeah, he set her off.

"Your movements are all over the place! You fight like a child!"

Now, far be it from Jaune to outwardly say that Blake was barking at him. Not only would that be racially inaccurate, but it would probably only make her angrier than she needed to be.

"...You think you're remotely ready? I've never heard of anyone so 'ready' to throw their life away with that kind of combat skill!"

It wasn't often that Blake yelled; in fact, it was still pretty weird to him. But her rising and falling shoulders as she heaved heavily managed to fire down any confidence he had building up. Looking at her directly was impossible; he was too afraid of what he might see there.

"Sorry…" he uttered, unsure of what else to say. It wasn't like her words were crude… for she wasn't exactly incorrect.

Still hurt, though.

But in the next instant, she was facing one of the available dummies, straightening her form in preparation. Then after another ordering gaze, she spoke again, "Every strike must have a meaning, a purpose."

A single right jab, faster than he could see that left the torso spinning. But just after two rotations, hardly even a full second, the dummy was completely stopped by her opposite fist.

"Every movement, direction."

With a spin to the side, she let her momentum work for her and struck the arm of one of the dummies, putting it into motion. The same applied to all those surrounding her, setting them into a frenzy of squeaks and whirls with simple moves that didn't seem to carry much force behind them.

But again, quickly measured attacks brought these rotating replicas to a silent halt, as though they'd never been touched in the first place.

"Every jab, step, and kick, like words and pauses to a single sentence – a single flow of thought that actually makes some decent sense!"

Sometimes Jaune forgot that Blake was a highly-trained fighter; she was more than capable of reaching speeds that his eye had trouble tracking. A blur of black striking each available dummy across the entire ring, the sounds of rotating gears permeating the air. And just as before, they never spun for longer than a second before being hit to a stand-still.

It was… beautiful.

She reappeared just a few feet away from him, strolling toward him in that damn yukata, a slight pant to her breath. But her stern look remained as she spoke again, "So you can hit, big deal. That's barely enough to win a battle. But do you honestly think that meager level of training can help you survive a war?"

Jaune's fingers coiled, not noticing the little flare of blue energy that bounded off his shoulder.

"Yes."

Jaune almost flinched as her fists tightened even more, knuckles turning white as her angriest glare and rebuke came straight at him, "Jaune, I don't think you realize what you are saying… what you're even getting yourself into!"

"Are you sure about that? How do you know I haven't been spending time thinking about each and every aspect of this!?" Jaune growled back, meeting his peeved best friend head on, "I know exactly what I'm doing! And despite that, I think… no, I _know_ I'm ready!"

"Well what you know is a big fat lie," Blake countered evenly, Jaune feeling he'd lost some ground, "Your skills are nowhere near polished enough… you might be able to punch through redwood, but that's not enough to be a part of the military. Not even with a draft going on."

"That's not your decision, Blake! It's my own!" Jaune's heart beat fast as she closed the distance between them, daring him to say more, "You are being completely ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous!?" Blake hissed, grabbing a double fistful of his collar with surprising strength, "Ridiculous that I care about your life!? What, am I just supposed to sit idly by and wait to hear that you've been gunned down by a Fang warship during a siege!? Or publicly executed in the worst imaginable way for no other reason than the uniform you'd be wearing!? You're the one being ridiculous! Getting yourself into something you should never have!"

"Well you know what, Blake?" Jaune levelled his voice, but pure rage was still on his face as he glared down at her, "It doesn't matter what you say! No matter what, I'm still going!"

Blake let him go, her subsequent sigh doing nothing to belie her resolve as she all but mumbled in reply, "Yeah… I figured you'd say something like that."

Another grimace, but Jaune flinched when she raised her lightly closed fists in front of her. Her legs spread moderately apart as her focus centered onto him, "So prove yourself. Right here, right now. Fight me."

Jaune momentarily forgot his anger, no longer filled with rage… but confusion. His eyes drifted away from his friend's battle readied gaze… and down to her flowy sleepwear.

"In that thing?"

Blake didn't so much as flinch as she responded, "Try not to look up the hem to see if I'm wearing anything underneath and you might even last ten seconds… If you want, I'll even give you the handicap of getting in a few licks with that dingy sword you got there..."

Was this really happening? Was Blake truly challenging him to a fight?

Burning pride kindling within him, a desire to prove himself coming to the fore, he shook his head decidedly, "…no, I'm fine without it… I say I last at least twenty bare-handed."

Blake's frown deepened, not the least bit entertained.

"A little overconfident today, are we?"

Jaune goaded her with a half smirk as he too dropped into a more rigid combat stance, "We'll see."

Silence.

Stillness.

Blake's sights were locked firmly on the shabby guard of her target - loose, relaxed… barely suitable for a defensive strategy. Her own training would have been fruitless if she failed to notice every single one of the reprehensible openings he so foolishly gave her.

It would be over before it even started.

And just as she predicted… her male friend was the first to attack.

She ducked and weaved accordingly; allowing his clenched fists to pass over her head, just barely nicking the long strands of her black tresses following after. With her speed, he wouldn't be able to touch even the afterimage of her. He was focused, and each strike surely would have hit if she wasn't so evasive…

But once again, he was pathetically predictable.

Even more so, his breathing was out of control. He was exhaling and inhaling briskly as he tried to keep up the onslaught, and she wasn't ignorant to the miffed turn of his lips as he realized his attacks were never going to land.

Better luck next time.

Blake weaved to her right, letting one foot stick out and catching Jaune's dominant foot with it. As she expected, Jaune had yet to see the attack coming and tripped over. To her surprise, however, he held out his hands to plant on the ground, ceasing his descent before pushing off the ground with the previous inertia to get back on his feet.

She would have been impressed… if she wasn't within his guard already.

 _Sorry, Jaune._

Blake leaned back at the same time Jaune was spinning back around to face her; swinging her leg up, her foot would be sure to nail him right in the jaw…

Or at least, that was what she thought.

But Jaune had disappeared.

Now taking preliminary caution, Blake looked amongst the dozens of surrounding training dummies, eyes swinging from side to side as her naturally sensitive ears listened for even the tiniest of sounds.

A step.

She whirled around just in time to see a blur vanish behind the second dummy on her right. Before a second could pass, she was right behind it as well, a single fist ready to strike the blonde who dared think he could hide from her.

Only, he wasn't there.

 _...What?_

She'd just seen him. She'd literally just seen him a mere half second before, dashing to hide behind this very dummy. Had she been seeing things? Her, of all people? No, horrors Blake had experienced, but she was proud to say that of the many things she'd lost, her sanity was not one of them.

Her ears twitched again as the scuffing of soles scraped the ground.

Whipping to her immediate left, she was once again greeted with nothing but the same field of dummies as she had before.

How… was he doing this?

Blake barely paid mind to the moisture on her bare feet from the dense grass, her steps naturally quiet as she moved with the utmost caution. She kept her senses everywhere, her ivory legs tightening in practiced preparation for any semblance of attack.

The whir of a rotating dummy drew her attention; its body was spinning rapidly in place where she found it. The same happened again just behind her, once again forcing her attention to it. But as she stared, she tried her best to keep her head level while keeping an eye out for her opponent.

Again she moved quietly, stopping the first spinning dummy before moving to the second. Grabbing a free arm, the second one ceased immediately, restoring tranquility to the world. The ravenette then took a step back, turning her head left and right in search for any sign of the blonde. This didn't make any sense… had Jaune just suddenly disappeared?

Couldn't be, absolutely impossible. But oddly enough, what seemed even more unlikely was the prospect of him moving so quietly that her enhanced senses could not accurately track him. A feat that was surely impossible for a human to pull off.

Right?

Her patience was wearing thin, and after having looked around the field for the umpteeenth time, she found herself growing impatient.

"Where are you…?" she muttered to herself more than anyone else, her narrowed glance shooting down to something that suddenly caught her eye..

Wait… what was that on the ground? That silhouette slowly growing larger as it descended upon… her.

Blake kicked away from her spot with all her strength, slightly wincing as a person landed firmly on the ground…

A single fist now removing itself from the torn up earth.

"Hm," Jaune's grunt was firm and filled with intent, bee-lining at her with surprising speed before giving her a taunting smirk, "Twenty."

With a scowl at herself from the realization that she'd lost track of time due to his tactics, Blake dodged his subsequent flurry of jabs, countering with well timed punches to his face and body.

Her knuckles screamed in protest, somehow feeling as though they were hitting something only slightly less durable than the redwood. Her hands, knees and feet hurt with each successful impact - her only compensation being the injuries now decorating her friend.

Ducking her head, Jaune's kick passed over her. She then knocked his grounded foot off the grass with a perfect undersweep, though Jaune regained his stance by pressing his palms into the ground and kicking back up.

In the next instant, her face was the target of Jaune's rocket-like fist.

A very slow-moving rocket.

The faunus had no trouble getting out of the way, gaining purchase just a few feet away from the boy. She was just in time to see his fist burst through the chest of the dummy behind her, but not just that… somehow, the force was enough to tear the dummy out of its foundation in the ground, leaving the obviously weighty object lodged on Jaune's wrist.

Blake might have made time to laugh; the moment certainly seemed to warrant it. That is, if she hadn't just watched Jaune grab the dummy by the head right after… and tear it straight in half.

 _I dread to imagine what I'd look like if he managed to hit me…_

"Okay… I'll admit that whatever training you've done has paid off," the ravenette began carefully, brushing off the show of strength with a nonchalant air, "But that's not enough to assure your life in war, Jaune."

"You could say the same for any fully trained Huntsman," Jaune countered, shaking off any tightness in his wrist with practiced ease, "Why is my going any different?"

A silent scoff from the fighter, "I'll show you why."

Blake closed in on him, assaulting him with a flurry of straights and kicks. It was clear to each of them that aside from the punishment he was taking, he had no viable way to defend against her. And that could only spell bad news for him.

She performed an easy backhand spring, a carbon copy of herself materializing just in front of her as his fist came barreling into it. His blow hit hard, but her clone stopped it just as it did, giving Blake the means to leap back at him and drive her knee into his jaw before he could realize what was going on. His teeth snapped into one another with a loud clack, surely dazing him, yet even so he made the attempt to grab her.

But the most his got was another mere image. Another clone replacing Blake's position as she torqued her body and wrapped one leg around his neck, the second one locking it in place. Blake never excelled in terms of upper body strength; one weaknesses she'd never need to overcome, considering that there was one part of her body that did retain a great deal of power…

Her legs.

Shifting her weight, her wrapped legs lifted Jaune over her as her hands planted on the grass with a perfect scissor leg takedown. Then, after swinging him down head first towards the ground, she freed her legs in the last instant so that Jaune's body could instead soar toward the dummies. And it was made so, Jaune letting out an audible yell as he hit the dummy squadron a few feet away.

Even then, he was up a second later and darting right after her yet again despite his momentary disorientation at first. Blake smirked a little, passively brushing down her yukata as she waited for him to close the distance between them.

Getting in before he could so much as flinch, she evaded his elbow and dug her right knee into his side. As he reeled back in pain, she spun on her opposite heel, swinging her right leg up and around… aimed directly for his face.

Jaune's eyes widened before impact.

Blood gushed out of his nose with an audible crack, Jaune's face flung to the side from the intense impact and even forcing him to take a step back. If anything, Blake figured he hadn't completely recovered from being thrown into the dummies… which meant that hard smack to his face had only served to multiply the damage to his cranium.

He doubled over faster than she anticipated, no longer making any motion to continue the spar.

At last, it was over.

Blake hadn't realized how much energy she'd exerted, her shoulders rising and falling with her exhausted breathing. But he'd never seen her Semblance in action before; heck, with how sheltered he'd been growing up, it was likely that he'd never seen any Semblance in action before. But she was confident it'd instilled in him just how out of his league he was with these pointless ambitions.

However, Jaune rose to his feet slowly… a bit dazed, but otherwise managing to hold onto sure footing. His forearm clearing the blood from his nose as he looked at her not with anger… but vibrant determination, his voice showed no less conviction than when he began.

"I hope you don't think this is over yet…"

"Don't bother getting up Jaune," Blake said simply, "If you can't even manage to hit me, what makes you think you'll last out there?"

"No idea," Jaune admitted honestly, a dim glow she'd only seen in passing before now slowly coating his entire bruised and bloodied body, "But I'll be damned if I don't try."

Jaune was on her in seconds, now pushing himself to move faster than he did before. Blake stepped back as his attacks grew wilder, making a sizable leap backward to space themselves apart before her exhaustion could spell her end.

Fruitless.

Jaune's fist was cocked back readily at close range, already closing the distance between them… and Blake only had a few spare milliseconds to react.

It was an opportunity she capitalized on by kicking up the shield that matched Jaune's sword which so serendipitously had happened to be lying at the base of the dummy behind her, holding it firmly in front of her to block the attack.

And soon, she regretted it.

It felt like an explosion had rocked the world - the moment Jaune's fist clashed with the sturdy shield, it hit the like an extremely loud gong. Blake was jolted with a strange wave of power that passed over every square inch of skin on her body, a sting of a headache-inducing ringing sound already beating against her eardrums.

And to her utter surprise, his attack followed through even as she was violently launched back. All she could hear were several of the wooden dummies behind her erupting from the echoing force of the punch, shattering to bits around and above her as her body was left skidding on the ground. It was only through conscious effort that her fall ceased, sparing her of any form of injury thanks to her aura.

And there she lay… the clouds passing high above before a shadow loomed over her, it's owner promptly reaching a hand out to her. She could tell his lip was busted, the blood in his nostril barely drying, and the rest of his exposed body completely covered in bruises. In all fairness, he looked far worse off than she did.

Yet it was her who was lying on the ground.

"Blake, I -"

"Forget it," Blake cut him off, promptly getting to her feet even as she fought back the faint grunt of pain that almost made it out of her mouth as she did so.

Instead, her eyes refusing to acknowledge his as she scanned over the field, Blake saw scattered shards of the sturdiest wood now strewn about like the grass around them, every dummy directly behind her all but obliterated with the follow-through from an Aural attack she'd only heard about in fabled battles. But finally, she glanced back at the cause of this devastation, not quite sure just what to be mad at anymore. One Jaune Arc, standing there with that stupid look on his face… how such destruction could come from total obliviousness was beyond her.

Whatever, she didn't care anymore. All she wanted right now was to be away from this.

"...Just, do whatever the hell you want."

And before Jaune could respond, Blake had turned on her heel and walked off.

* * *

 _ **~Between the Lines~**_

* * *

"Ow…"

The winding stairs proved to be more of a bane than a boon for the poor Jaune Arc. Whether it was the pulled muscle in his legs, the mild pain in his hands, or the injuries healing slowly but surely under the few bandages on his face… fate spared no expense for him, content to allow him to suffer from the physical markings graciously bestowed upon him by a certain faunus.

As well as the emotional ones.

Perhaps that was the reason he was climbing these stairs now; to talk to her. Sad to say, the two childhood friends pretty much went the rest of the afternoon and evening without saying a word to each other. He'd made a conscious effort to stay away from the library… under the assumption she would be there. Yet somehow in his gargantuan house, they ran into each other a bit more often than they'd meant to.

He dared not meet her eyes in those awkward exchanges.

But he knew he couldn't avoid her forever… and the only way to ensure no permanent damage had been done was to do this straight away.

He just hoped it would turn out better than it did before…

Once he reached the peak of the steps, the space opened up wide to form the large flat roof that encompassed the entire top of the manor, with only a few skylights and other roof-bound constructs jutting up in their typical pyramid-like shape. The large glass windows glistened with purpose - the universes inside them hidden as they instead reflected the piercing light of the shattered moon, a pale luminescence that shone down on any and everything.

Including the only other person on the roof.

"And you were calling me predictable…"

Maybe not the best opening, he realized the instant after speaking. But approach didn't often matter with Blake, whether he was serious or not. She was the kind of girl that preferred the end result instead of the journey - odd, considering how much she liked to read.

Questions for another day.

His footsteps were heavy, if only because of his tiredness. His shirt barely shielded him from the tickle of the cool night air - slow, unexcited wind forced his hair to dance like blades of grass, kicking up stray leaves from the treescape covering the several acres of land around the mansion. It was beautiful - as it always was - being able to see such ambient nature surrounding the manor, the heavy forest just behind him being of his favorite parts. That, as well as the grassy courtyard in front.

He was sure that Blake enjoyed it just as much.

"I figured you'd be here… every time you used to come over after a tough week of training or a mission you didn't really agree with… you were always up here; you'd tell me it was cuz you needed a minute to knock on the sky…"

"And listen to the sound…"

Blake response wasn't a quick one; in fact, Jaune was certain she was going to ignore him before her soft voice permeated the sound barrier. She was talking to him at least. So… progress? Though she'd acknowledged his presence, however, she refused to look at him… still.

Moments passed between them, Jaune unsure of how to proceed from this point. He got her to talk? Was that good? Sometimes it was hard to tell with Blake; she was usually so adept at hiding her emotions, that even if he knew she was upset… there was no clear remedy for it.

Oh Friendship, why must you be such a royal pain in the ass?

He was uncertain about sitting next to her, unsure of how angry she might still be. Oh who was he kidding? She was downright infuriated… but the scary thing about his best friend was that her fury was an unforeseeable and terribly unpredictable one. But he decided the risk was worth the fallout, taking a close spot next to her...

Only for her to scoot a noticeable inch away.

Jaune wished he had to energy to sigh dramatically.

"Blake… I'm sorry it had to come up the way it did - even though the timing couldn't have been worse, I could choose not to go… but I wouldn't be able live with myself if I didn't."

Her brows furrowed for just a second before relaxing, but her reply was swift even if she still didn't look up to meet his gaze, "And what about your life? Hm? You think you'd be able to live at all if you did?"

She sounded so calm, which was good at least; that is, if he hadn't noticed the growing bite in her tone as she'd spoken.

"...That's not fair, Blake. If things are as bad as they are - like you said - then why would I avoid the problem, even if it's just to keep myself alive a few more years?"

Jaune was honestly getting tired of the profound silence that was becoming increasingly more common as the night progressed. Had there not been enough of that already? He was being as civil as he could; he'd already seen how well their argument went down at the training field… and he was not hungry for another slice of that mayhem. This wasn't how he and Blake were meant to speak - they were always so open, so honest, and most of all, there was nothing keeping them from speaking their minds. This resulted in more than a few… disagreements, and this time was no exception, but in the end, it was never enough to tear them apart.

He truly hoped that this case would be no exception.

Blake's gaze remained on the gap between her knees, legs drawn up and pressed into her body before shaking her head, "I'm going to let you answer that question… what I say won't change anything. Today has shown me that."

Jaune just stared, letting yet another moment drag by in silence before being unable to restrain his musing any longer.

"You're really bothered by this…"

"Of course I am! Did you think I'd be excited about your going off into war?" she quipped in reply, causing him to flinch as she continued with the very same ire from before that he'd wished to avoid, "I just got out of it two days ago! ...Do you have any idea how it feels to know that if you don't die fighting, then all that means is that you'll be living long enough to see that someone you care about will?"

Of course he knew… it was a question he oft asked himself with his mother in mind, even if it was something he dared not admit to her… or anyone else, for that matter. And in light of the day's events, it wasn't a conversation he was exactly ready to have with Blake right now, either.

So instead, he shrugged with as confident a smirk he could muster with his current fatigue, "Don't jump to conclusions just yet… who is to say that I'm going to die?"

"I gave up on testing fate a long time ago Jaune… I don't bother with ifs. All I see is what's real, and what really happens is that thousands of innocent lives are taken in this… madness," Blake paused after replying, her amber eyes dulled to a pale yellow by the moonlight finally reaching up to meet his as a different kind of pain laced her next words, "I've watched so many people I grew up knowing die… so many, Jaune. Executed in the worst imaginable ways - by fire, by bullet, by blade… and I am terrified of that happening to you."

Jaune's gaze fell, ashamed. This was exactly what he was afraid of… hearing those damning words from the her. Because he knew they had the potential to change his mind, to force him to throw away his dead-set mission and continue on the peaceful life he'd been fortunate enough to lead until now. He could deal with Blake being angry; his sisters did always say that once you make a girl angry the first time… she'd always be angry at you. Just in lesser degrees.

But what he didn't want to look at was the heartbreak in those orbs, seemingly dispelling the darkness around them even if their color was dimmed; unselfish and caring emotions that knocked around his ironclad will like a chew toy… whittling away its sturdiness before completely destroying it.

Dealing with that kind of emotion from Blake sucked. Like, a lot. And as if it weren't enough with how she began… she continued, every word sending the chilled stave deeper into Jaune's chest.

"...So forgive me if I'm angry, I have every right to be! Because right now, what you're asking me to do is sit back and watch as your march onto the front lines!"

And just as she had been doing before, she turned away from him, leaving them both in that cold blister called silence.

But Jaune couldn't let it end that way - this needed to be resolved, whether Blake was cooperative or not. And to do that… he had to understand.

Slowly opening his mouth, his tongue briefly whetting his lips as he momentarily seemed to silently place his next words, he finally worked up the strength to ask aloud, "Blake… why did you join the war?"

A single amber eye met both his, the hint of a glare presenting itself until she decided to once again… turn away.

"I guess the better question would be, why the Fang?" he pressed anyway, unwilling to give up on learning why she saw things so bluntly so easily, "They weren't always what they were now… were they?"

Her raven hair bounced in the wind as she softly shook her head in reply, his persistence finally paying off as she chose to speak.

"No. Back then, things were different. In the ashes of the first Great War, the White Fang was meant to be a symbol of peace and unity between Humans and the Faunus... But obviously, the peace didn't happen, and the unity never came. So the White Fang rose up as the voice of our people. Our leader truly believed we could change the way things were… The way things still were… And when he spoke in front of all those Faunus crowds, I believed him. I wanted to believe him… So I did what I thought was the right thing - I joined. But I was wrong - only, it was too late to realize that my faith in our cause was a mistake."

Jaune listened, his frown only growing until he finally found his chance to reply, "Blake… It's never wrong to look for the good in people, no matter who they are. You can't blame yourself for trying to make a difference… It's way more than what I ever did…"

"Is it really?" Blake shot back with vigor, "Because honestly, I was thinking exactly what you just said when five years ago, our leader stepped down, and a new one took his place. A new leader, with a new way of thinking. And looking back on it now Jaune, I can honestly tell you I've learned something about the way people work since then - nothing ever happens overnight. It's inch by inch; one day, you're peacefully protesting… then the rumors of others using fists instead of pickets begin… then you look the other way when you see it happening in front of you… And suddenly, our peaceful protests are being replaced with organized attacks - setting fire to shops that refuse to serve us, hijacking cargo from companies that use Faunus labor. Suddenly, the gun is placed in your hands. And one day, the nape of someone's neck is under your blade… And after you're done cleaning off the blood, you look back and realize you're a much different person now than you were five years ago…"

…

Jaune was beginning to understand why these silences were happening so often; heck, because he had no immediate response, he needed the moment. Truth be told, what she said was exactly how he'd imagined war… but hearing it from the mouth of the experienced somehow brought forth a realization he figured he'd always come to in light of his own naïveté. But with what little he could say in response to something like that, he could at least convey the bright side he saw in all this.

"But you left…"

"Yes, I left," Blake continued with a soft sigh, legs kicking back and forth against the edge of the roof as she continued, "I decided I no longer wanted to use my skills to aid in their violence… but this is war, Jaune. What makes you think you won't be in the position of the one trying to clean off the blood someday…"

She paused, and Jaune was certain he'd seen her shoulders jolt before she gathered the will to continue with a hint of a tremor in her voice, "Or worse, the one whose blood is being cleaned off…?"

Jaune's attention found the moon, as if asking it for all the answers. Wishful thinking, but he could use a little of that right now. Blake's cynical perspective wasn't unjustified in the slightest, which only made it that much worse that he was getting himself into something that she'd taken such drastic measures to avoid.

So at this point, he wasn't sure if this conversation could end well anymore… but if it was going to end badly or not, he knew he'd have to make sure he'd laid himself out as she had just done as well.

"Y'know, it's not that I never thought about how being trained to kill might actually involve me killing someday…" Jaune began cautiously before pausing in thought, "But all my life, I've never done anything worth a damn. Just sat about in my room… alone, no goals, no aspirations. All while I watched my family from a distance. I was weak… and unimportant."

His fists tightened, staring with the fire in his eyes at the distant, starry horizon without even realizing just how deeply he'd caught his companion's attention, "I couldn't do that anymore… I had to work myself to become better. To become stronger… because if there's one thing I fear more in this world than death… It's living my life knowing that I never did a single Oum-damn thing that neither I nor anyone who knows me could ever truly be proud of…"

He let out a shaky sigh before shutting his eyes with the salty sting welling up within them, not realizing how difficult it would've been to have said this about him out loud. But he had… and it burned… burned, even when he felt shaky fingers slowly brushing over his where they lay on the ledge. Burned, even when those fingers stayed there as their owner spoke.

"Jaune… that is just not true. I have always cared… I've always been proud. To me, you don't need to be a fighter… everything you are now has always been more than enough."

"I know, and you have no idea how happy that makes me… but the truth is, after this war is over, if I can't be happy with myself, if I don't believe in myself, then nothing would change even if the whole world was to say they believed in me… wanna know why?" Jaune paused, his eyes having stayed shut until now as he explained and his brows now furrowing with the answer to his own question… letting the tear that fell on the side of his face that she couldn't see run all the way down his cheek as he continued.

"Because every time I wake up, every time I look at myself in the mirror, and every night before I close my eyes, I'd remember that I lived that day by letting a thousand others fight and die for me in order to build a world I should've wanted enough to fight for myself. There are people out there who still fight for the right reasons, Blake… people who fight so that humans and Faunus receive equal treatment and nothing less. And I'm one of those people… so if I have to die so that the very world you once fought for could be possible, then I'd gladly do it a thousand times… and I'd do it ten thousand more if I knew it'd keep you safe long enough to be able to live in it, too…"

He then looked at her, in the way he always had. Jaune was not a man of many secrets - his parents had said many times how readily he wore his heart on his sleeve. No lies, no mask, no clandestine motive… not here, where only the truth mattered. But it was to show the faunus in front of him how much the things he was preaching meant to him. And now it was the time of reckoning, to see where this would lead now that hearts were laid bare… now, or never.

"...Can you understand that, Blake?"

And as Blake stared back, he made note of the surprise in her stare. He expected her to look away… but instead, she kept full eye contact with him, like she was searching his expression for a flaw in his resolve, any sort of hesitation.

But he knew full well that she'd find none.

"No Jaune. I can't…"

If Jaune's downcast was any indication…. maybe this was it, then? No matter how much he explained it to her, Blake would not be able to comprehend how he felt. That could be good in a way, as neither of their time would be further wasted in a completely futile attempt to make up for differing views that'd grown to be too opposed to reconcile over the years. Perhaps the effort was too idealistic… he couldn't just expect her to side with him in everything. They had their differences, this he knew…

He just wished he'd realized sooner how different they really were before he'd let her back into his life, in more ways than one...

"But…"

His attention snapped back toward her, surprised and hoping against all hope that the look in her eyes as she still gazed at him might be cause for elation while she continued, "I haven't heard someone speak that way in a very… very long time. Even if I might not like it… you're right, that is a world worth fighting for."

Shock and elation did indeed seep into Jaune at the same time upon such words, so much so that he wasn't certain which one was more prominent.

"You mean… you won't try and stop me?"

"No," Blake noted with a shake of her head, Jaune suddenly catching what looked to be the ghost of a smirk unexpectedly turning up the corner of her lips, "Because now you've forced my hand…"

The blonde paused in momentary confusion, but her next words would send him into a sputtering fit that she soon after decided was fair retaliation for the bomb he'd dropped on her earlier.

"I'm going with you."

* * *

 **Took a while to update this. Sorry about that. XD**

 **Not much to say, Jaune and Blake get into it and the war of their beliefs was short-lived but impactful. Saying anything more would ruin the future chapters so I'll call it here.**

 **See you in the next one.**

 **ISA**

* * *

Jaune had gone to sleep not long ago.

That fact brought some level of relief to her - even if the issue itself had been solved, Blake was certain they would both need the night apart to settle themselves. Sleep came easy for the blonde, lucky jerk… Blake, however, was a different case.

Stress was to be her lover for tonight - a preferable alternative, since lying down with him in arms only boded for a bothersome attempt at rest at best. So with eyes that defied the mantle of darkness currently upon the silent manor, and naturally nocturnal instincts, she resolved to give the night no leeway.

She would pull an all-nighter, child's play in comparison to all the consecutive sleepless days she'd endured in years prior, in order to execute an idea that promised to both dispel stress and grant her rest.

Blake smoothed out the t-shirt she'd preferred to think she'd 'liberated' from Jaune's room - her dirt-stained yukata now spending its lonely night in the wash after the afternoon brawl. It was a large, plain-white affair that served her sleepwear's job well enough, giving her legs comfortable breathing room while providing her otherwise… exposed… lower regions just enough coverage.

In other words, much to her momentary chagrin as she decided to be honest with herself in her fatigued laziness, as long as she was careful, the hem of the t-shirt reached just far enough down to cover the bottom of her black low-rise underwear.

 _My yukata was bad enough. If Jaune sees me like this, he might have a heart attack…_

But well, that was worry for another time. The ravenette was content to just spend the rest of the night, and likely pre-dawn, just relaxing in a place that was well out of the way of any of the blonde's possible nighttime trajectories through the manor.

She plopped onto the couch, the cold fabric of the comforter becoming warmer as she opened the familiar little black book in front of her and skimmed through the heavily written pages until she found a blank one near the end.

"Long time since I've done this…" she couldn't help whispering into the wide area before a loud bump from somewhere else in the house rang in her muffled ears.

Poor Jaune probably rolled out of his bed… again. In any case, 'Onward!' she ordered with unexpectedly excited anticipation to the ink pen loosely held in her fingers over her journal...

 _First time in years I've tried my hand at this, so I'll keep it short…_

 _Jaune,_ she wrote, fingers tracing the name through the ink as the smallest of smiles grew on her lips…

 _To think all this time, you had that deep inside of you. I'm no longer surprised why your Aura turned out to be so powerful… It reflects your spirit, and the conviction in your words. Those rare qualities… I must admit, they've made a believer out of me; and Oum knows how stubborn I can be, so you best be proud of what that idiot little head of yours accomplished today._

She managed a small chuckle, eyes peering up at the ceiling with the tip of her pen tapping her lower lip in a moment of uncertainty as she pondered her next words.

 _Nevertheless, despite said stubbornness, there turned out to be nothing more I could argue against what you said earlier… almost… so, here's the last thing I didn't have the heart to get out of my chest when I spoke to you, but'll write down now before it tears me up inside:_

Suddenly it came back to her, the pain… she was sad to admit that many of these journal entries lacked anything remotely good. Not like she wanted it that way - all she wrote was the truth, her life, her beliefs… whether that made it more morbid or not was not something she cared to contemplate. Still, those feelings often left a knot in her throat… a quiver in her soul, just like it was doing now… but she continued writing regardless.

 _Jaune, you may be right about what you said today… but I couldn't imagine a world worth living in if you weren't in it…_

Her lips tightened, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes sharpened… she wrote the last few lines with strength, depth of mind… and most imperatively, promise. Not only to herself, but to the young human who had dared to give a damn about her.

 _So here I am, once again… picking up arms for the same cause, but with a new mettle…_

Blake paused again… by now, it felt like over an hour had passed since she'd begun writing, and she could sense exhaustion creeping up on her even though she fought hard to disobey. But a part of her knew she wouldn't win… and honestly, she didn't really have the patience to fight it, either. She'd done enough of that already. And so she finalized that last of her entry, grudgingly accepting gratification in just laying there for the rest of the night and reading over her latest entry until restful slumber overtook the resilient young woman.

 _Because I refuse to lose you Jaune... and I won't, no matter what it takes._


End file.
